


The Werewolf's Child

by PeregrineBones



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cannon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 10:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 144,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11507220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeregrineBones/pseuds/PeregrineBones
Summary: Remus Lupin was captured by Fenrir Greyback, tortured and experimented on. He was rescued by the Order of the Phoenix, and now is being hidden by Severus Snape at  Spinner's End. The two form an unlikely bond, although, as the war against Voldemort approaches it's end game, neither really believes they will survive.





	1. Spinner's End

**Author's Note:**

> This story opens in November 1997, in the year of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. It starts out fairly cannon compliant with a few notable exceptions. Most important, Remus is gay and never marries Nymphadora Tonks. All of the other important stuff is the same (Voldemort has seized power, Severus Snape is headmaster of Hogwarts, Harry, Ron and Hermione are off hunting horcruxes.)If you have read some of my other fics, it fits in pretty well with all of them, up until the point where Sirius Black is killed at the end of the Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. In this story, Sirius is dead and Remus is in mourning. Remus was captured by Fenrir Greyback in the spring of 1997 and has been imprisoned by him, tormented and experimented on. The story begins about a week after his rescue by the Order. I am not 100% sure where the plot is heading, but I suspect by the end, it will be pretty cannon divergent. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy it. PB.

The first few days were a blur that only gradually came into focus. Remus spent long hours, alone and in pain in the strange old fashioned bedroom. He only gradually recognized the man who came and went, who changed the dressings on his wounds, applying a cooling salve, who brought him potions to drink and fed him broth from a spoon, who helped him to the bathroom and and sat him unceremoniously on the toilet. It was Severus Snape.

Remus didn’t particularly want to live. He felt he was beyond all that. Everyone he had cared about was dead, everyone but Harry, and he didn’t feel he could do Harry any good at this point anyway. The months as a prisoner in the werewolf camp had been horrible, painful and humiliating beyond imagining. He didn’t want to go on in a world where such things were possible.

And yet, he felt his strength returning to him. After a few days of continuous dozing he found himself restless, bored, the hours alone in the darkened room weighing heavily upon him. He got up, stretched, every joint in his body cracking. He went to the window and pulled open the curtains. It was a pale sort of wintery day. He looked down at the grimy street below, the somber brick row houses lining it on either side. Off in the distance was a factory, made of the same brick, with smoke curling out of a high chimney, so tall it dominated the sky. He knew where he must be. This was Severus’s house. Spinner’s End.

He was wearing some kind of a nightshirt in a faded grey. He rummaged in drawers and found some clothing of Severus’s, pants and a vest, black trousers, black jumper, green socks. He changed, smiling to himself a bit at the green socks.

He went to the bathroom, stood to piss for a change and rinsed his mouth. His face was covered with a stubbly growth of beard. He shaved, using a rusty old fashioned safety razor he found in the medicine cabinet, surprisingly heavy in his hand, and a yellowed piece of soap, veined with grime. He crossed the landing to the small bedroom, done up in Slytherin green and silver, that must have been Sev’s as a child. Sunlight filtered through a grimy window. Below was a neglected garden, rather larger than he had expected, with a greenhouse at the southern end. Several panes of glass were broken, giving it a gap toothed appearance. The unbroken panes caught the weak winter sunlight, and glinted.

Down in the kitchen he found a loaf of bread, a bottle of milk, some eggs and oranges. A packet of digestives. Had these been left for his benefit? As far as he knew, Severus lived and ate at Hogwarts. He made himself a cup of tea, using the stove as he had no wand. He managed to get down half an orange. Everything in the kitchen had a dusty, unused feel. The furniture in the lounge was covered in sheets. At the far end the door was ajar revealing a small but densely packed library. The collection was extensive, floor to ceiling and contained many books that were rare or forbidden. Remus sequestered himself there for the rest of the day, reading ravenously in a dusty armchair of faded burgundy. When darkness fell he made his way back to the kitchen. He nibbled a couple of digestives to keep his nausea at bay and crawled back into bed.

He woke in the middle of the night, startled, not knowing where he was. The horror and fear that had been his daily companions in the werewolf camp overtook him and for a moment he panicked. Then he recognized the bedroom, the glare of the orange streetlights coming in where he had opened the curtains earlier in the afternoon.

Severus was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed, staring at him.

“It’s all right, Lupin,” he said. His voice was neutral, unreadable. “You’re safe here.”

For a long moment, they just looked at each other. “Sev, I’ve no wand.”

“I’ll find you a wand.” He rose. “There’s food in the kitchen. I must get back. I may not be able to return for several days. The garden’s warded, as well as the house. But don’t go beyond the gate. You’re a wanted man.” He went to the fireplace and was gone through the floo.

*******  
Remus fell into a routine of sorts over the next few days, involving alternating tea drinking, cracker nibbling, vomiting and reading. The garden was sodden with rain and cold and did not tempt him. He took a long nap every afternoon. His nights were haunted by dreams. He dreamed again of his imprisonment, the hunger and cold, the humiliation and fear, the pain. He dreamed of James and Lily, of his boyhood and the companionship of his friends, though it had all been so long ago. He dreamed of a large black dog, that would come bounding to him through the snow, and he would wake with a yearning so deep he thought he could not bear it.

He missed Sirius, like an ache, always.

On the third night he woke in a cold sweat from a particularly vivid dream of the tortures he had endured, and Severus was there, sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed, illuminated oddly by the orange street lamp and saying not a word. He looked at Remus for a long time. Remus was unsure what he wanted, but at last the loneliness he felt was too much and he lifted the coverlet, inviting Severus in.

“Hold me?” he asked and Severus nodded once. He stood and took off his shoes, his traveling cloak, his robes, while Remus watched him. He got in the bed in his trousers and undershirt. He settled Remus in his arms and they slept.

Remus awoke sometime later and he could tell Severus wanted him. He could sense the other man’s arousal, behind him, hear his cautious, not asleep, breathing. Remus stirred and he heard Sev’s breath catch. He shifted his arse, a little closer, and Sev’s breathing get more rapid. Without really wanting to, he felt his body responding to Sev’s excitement in kind. He felt an electric tingle go up his spine as Sev shifted his weight a little bit, still not touching him, but closer.

They shifted around like that, in a kind of dance, for a long while, the excitement and yearning building between them, closer each time, until with the tiniest movement, Remus shifted his arse into Severus. He felt Sev’s erection pushing against him through the layers of fabric between them. Remus’ breath was rapid now as well. Sev’s mouth was on the back of his neck, light whispery puffs of air, soft lips and tongue. His arms went around Remus and he pulled him against himself with a groan. Remus felt any self control, any resistance he might have had to these strange advances leave him. He moaned himself and pushed back against Sev and twisted his head so their mouths met in a hot clash of tongues and teeth.

Then Sev was ferocious, ravenous, unstoppable. He pushed Remus onto his back, shoved his nightshirt up and off, tearing off his own clothing furiously. He kissed and nibbled and sucked, front and back, then asked Remus, throatily, if he could fuck him.

Remus looked back at him warily. He was not sure where all this was coming from. They had known each other from childhood, and he had never known Sev to show the least interest in other men. At last he nodded.

“Do you have a condom?” he asked. Even in his depression and despair he couldn’t help being responsible about sex. “And we’ll need some lube”

“I’ll find us something,” said Sev. He rose and Remus heard him fumbling in the bureau. He wondered vaguely, who else Sev had fucked in this bed. Not that it meant anything to him.

Sev was back with a condom and some kind of lotion and slicked Remus’ arse almost tenderly. Remus heard him fumbling with the condom, the wrapper tearing, the crinkling of foil. Remus turned to help him put on the condom and to lube him with the lotion. Sev’s nostrils flared, his breathing got raspy, and he closed his eyes. Remus rolled onto his back, lifted his hips and guided him in. Sev was cautious at first, a look of intense concentration on his face, but once he found his rhythm he fucked hard and fast, taking Remus’ cock in his fist and making him come with an intensity that rocked Remus from head to toe. Sev climaxed with a sob that sounded as if it was being wrenched from his gut. And then they both fell into a deep sleep, almost instantly.

In the morning, when Remus awoke, Severus was gone. November sun was pouring through the eastern window. He looked over at the old fashioned nightstand by the bed and saw that Severus had left him a wand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! More to follow! And please comment! I do love feedback! PB


	2. Fenrir Greyback's Little Experiment

Sev came to Spinner's End every second or third night. Remus would wake up to find him sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed. He always waited for Remus to awaken, always waited to be invited into bed. A few times, Remus realized, he had been and gone without disturbing him. There would be fresh food in the kitchen, the trash bin emptied of Remus’ meager refuse of tea bags and eggshells.

Once in bed Sev was ravenous, focussed and intense, as if he hadn’t had sex in years, which Remus figured, was very likely true. He kissed, he moaned, he licked. He sucked Remus’ cock like a porn star, he fucked him like a machine. Talking was kept to a strict minimum. “That’s good,” Sev would whisper, occasionally, as though he couldn’t help himself. He’d deliver instructions in a tight whisper. “Harder,” or “Faster,” or “There,” or “Don’t stop, don’t stop that. Whatever you do, don’t stop that.” He sweated and cursed and cried out when he came with a low animal moan that sounded like it was breaking him in two.

He wouldn’t talk to Remus, or look him in the eye.

Remus was glad for the physical contact. He craved it. He was glad that he could enjoy sex again; he had wondered if he ever would. He hadn’t slept with anyone since Sirius had died, and that was over a year ago. He couldn’t really imagine what was motivating Sev. He wasn’t used to this kind of coldness. Sev treated him like a prostitute, which, he supposed in a certain sense he was. He was completely dependent on Sev right now, for everything. Every time he asked a question, or tried to just talk, Sev cut him off.

Always, aftewards, Severus fell into a deep, coma like sleep. Always, in the morning, he was gone.

******

After a few weeks of this, Remus woke one night as Sev stirred and got out of bed.

“Stay,” said Remus in a hoarse whisper, grasping his hand.

“I’d …. Like to, actually,” said Sev. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“My absence might be noticed. It’s risky enough as it is.”

“Can’t we…… talk?”

“No.”

 ********

“You’re not eating Lupin.” Severus said a few nights later, as he rose from the bed and started pulling on his clothes.

“I….can’t.”

“You need to eat, Lupin. You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell.” Remus sat up on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

“Sev, I think I’m pregnant.”

Severus looked at him, thunderstruck. Of course it made sense. He knew Greyback had been pursuing male pregnancy as a way of increasing his ranks. He was a vile opportunist, but he was also a long term planner. Still he had never imagined that they would experiment on Lupin. He hadn’t been thinking, obviously, hadn’t put it together. He’d been blinded by his damn feelings.

It certainly explained why the hunt for Remus had been so intense. His rescue had been a high risk operation by the Order. Once they had succeeded, the ministry, under Voldemort, was sparing no effort to get him back. Well it made sense, now didn’t it? He was Greyback’s little experiment.

He looked at Lupin, sitting there with his head in his hands, his naked back pale and white. His hair was growing out from the buzz cut he had gotten while a prisoner. He looked utterly bereft.

“I know I’m good Lupin," said Sev, quietly. "But I'm not that good.” 

Remus looked up at him.

“Severus Snape, did you just make a joke?”

Sev looked over at him, taken aback. “I suppose I did,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone.”

And then they were laughing, the two of them together, like children, until tears came to their eyes.

After the laughter abated Sev got back in bed in his underwear and pulled Remus, still naked, against his chest.

“Let me see,” he said. Remus showed him the three tiny scars, one below his umbilicus, two lower down, forming a kind of triangle. Sev, who felt he knew every inch of Remus’ body by now, wondered how he could have missed them. But of course, all that had been in the dark.

“I…...are you sure?” Sev asked

Remus shrugged. “Pretty sure. They were all excited at the camp because they thought the spell had taken. And I…..have all the symptoms.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

“I meant emotionally.”

“Oh.” Remus looked at him quizzically “Since when do you care about emotions?”

Sev sighed and looked at him in exasperation. “Answer the question, Lupin.”

“What is the question, exactly?”

“How do you feel about having a baby?”

Remus looked at him warily. The silence lengthened between them.

”I…...don’t know,” said Remus slowly, at last. “I never would have chosen this, obviously. It’s insanity, especially with….my condition. But now,” he shrugged and looked at Sev. Sev looked him in the eye, for once. “I’ve lost everything, Sev, every friend I’ve ever had, every shred of dignity. The thought of this baby gives me….hope.”

“Any idea who the father is? The other father?” Sev corrected.

“No.”

‘How far along….” Sev grasped for terminology. “How many months…..?”

“Probably about two.”

“So the.....fetus has all ready survived 2 changes.”

“I imagine it will get harder as the baby gets bigger,” said Remus, dryly.

“You realize this is a complete catastrophe,” said Sev. “ Male pregnancy in the best of circumstances carries a very high risk. For a werewolf…..well…..I’m not aware of any other cases. At least none where the father or the child survived.”

“Nor am I,” said Remus quietly.

“You wouldn’t consider terminating this pregnancy?” asked Severus, though something about the set of Remus’ mouth made him suspect he knew the answer, “There must be a way to manage it magically. I could…..”

“No,” Remus cut him off. “I’ve all ready decided, Sev. I know the baby might not survive, or I might not, but I’m going to try to keep it if I can.”

Severus didn’t really understand why he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. What did it have to do with him, after all? “You’re a bigger fool than I thought,” he said, as disdainfully as he could manage.

“I know,” said Remus, and he looked so vulnerable and sad that the lecture Sev had been about to deliver melted on his tongue. Instead he pushed Remus onto his back and lay on top of him and kissed him and for a long time there was just that. Kissing Remus. He wanted to fuck him again, but there wasn’t time. At last he roused himself and finished dressing.

“Isn’t there some kind of test?” he asked as he pulled on his trousers. He stepped into his boots and laced them with an impatient flick of his wand.

“A pregnancy test?” asked Remus, watching him from the bed. The quilt was pulled up to his chin but he was still naked, underneath.

“Yes,” said Sev, putting his arms through his robes and fastening them at the neck. The clasp was a silver dragon, his one adornment.

“Sure,” said Remus. “You can buy one at any Muggle chemist for a few pounds. You pee on a stick. They have them at Tesco’s.” Sev put on his cloak and crossed the room to the cold fireplace.

“Right,” said Sev, lighting the fire in the grate with his wand. The orange glow of the flames washed over both of them and Remus was struck, for a moment, by how beautiful his face was. He wasn’t sure that he had ever noticed it before.

“I’ll come by with one tomorrow evening,” he said. “About seven,” He reached above the mantel for a pinch of floo powder and the flames turned green. The light reflected off Sev’s face, and his high cheekbones and long nose suddenly looked gaunt and menacing. Remus shuddered. “Hogwarts,” Sev said loudly and stepped into the flames.


	3. Blue Satin Pajamas

Remus was in the small library, reading, at the end of a long and lonely day. His nausea was relentless. He had managed to eat about half of a scrambled egg about noontime, and then promptly puked it up. He’d fallen into a long, stuporous nap in the afternoon, and woken up starving, but the only thing he dared to put in his stomach was some tea and a few nibbled biscuits. The combination of nausea and hunger was infuriating, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

He wondered, briefly if Sev was right and he should terminate the pregnancy. It wasn’t too late. It wasn’t really a baby yet, was it? But he knew he wouldn’t do that. He wanted this baby. He wanted to be a father. Being pregnant had awakened in him a hunger to be a parent that he hadn’t quite recognized in himself, previously. It was like turning toward something that had been there all along and saying, “Yes. Of course. I’ve always wanted that.”

He had never really thought it was possible, before now.

He and Sirius had talked fancifully about adopting a child someday, in some distant, rosy, more grown up future. But it had never been a realistic option. Neither of them was exactly an ideal candidate for adoptive parent. Sirius was an escaped convict, and he, Remus, was a known werewolf. It was very unlikely that anyone would have ever given them a child.

He thought of how excited Sirius would have been about this baby and his grief, always so close to the surface, cut through him like a knife.

He let the pain wash over and through him, as he knew he must. Remus was an expert at grief. He understood it’s rules and it’s demands. He knew that it was futile to try to fight the pain. It always came back with a vengeance and it tended to get worse the longer it was dodged.

He sat at Sev’s kitchen table for a long time, lost in sorrow and regret, the silent house settling all around him, his tea gone cold. His thoughts turned to Harry, and he experienced a familiar, wracking sense of guilt that was almost overwhelming. He had let Harry down in so many ways, on so many different occasions. Remus assumed that Harry was safe at Hogwarts, in the middle of his seventh year, but he didn’t even really know that, did he?

At last he roused himself and went through the dark, spooky sitting room with it’s furniture ghosted by sheets and into the library. On a top dusty shelf he found some books on Kabbalistic magic, a topic he’d been curious about for years. Beside these was a heavy herbal, an ancient tome that looked as if it went back to the middle ages. He carried these treasures down from the shelf and arranged them on the slanting library table. He started a fire in the small grate with his wand, summoned his cold tea from the kitchen and warmed it with a quick charm. He settled himself upon the high library stool and started reading.

Hours later, lost in the fascinating world of Kabbalistic magic, he heard a key in the lock of the back door. In the kitchen, Sev was unpacking several Tesco’s carrier bags. White paper take away cartons were lined up on the counter and Remus smelled the appetizing aroma of curry. He didn’t think he could eat it, but it still smelled good.

“What is all this?” he asked, hand on his hip. He couldn’t help smiling at Sev, who scowled at him fiercely.

Sev had bought a home pregnancy test but it was nearly lost in the jumble of other merchandise. He had gone on a bit of a spree. There was underwear and socks, razors and shaving cream, condoms and lube. There was a brush and comb, a pair of blue satin pajamas.

“What’s this then?” asked Remus holding up the pajamas, still in their crinkling plastic packaging. They were a very nice shade of blue, deep and shimmery, more jewel tone than navy, like a very clear evening sky.

“I…….thought you might look nice in them,” said Sev and then he was blushing from his ears down to his neck and, well, Remus couldn’t see the rest of him under his robes but he could imagine.

Remus walked around the formica table in the small kitchen and put his arms around Sev. He raised a hand and brushed the long black hair back from his forehead, enjoying the silky feel as it slid through his fingers. It was the first time that they had touched while out of bed.

“Thank you,” said Remus. “They’re lovely. I shall enjoy them.”

Severus put his hand to the nape of Remus’ neck and kissed him, and for a long moment they stood there in the kitchen, necking. At last Sev pulled his mouth away, reluctantly.

“Go pee on the stick, Lupin,” he said, huskily.

Remus picked the pink package labeled E.P.T out of the jumble on the table and headed for the small toilet off the kitchen.

“Come with?” he invited, so Severus accompanied him into the tiny green tiled room and watched while Remus peed on the little plastic stick and the blue plus sign appeared. Severus studied the instructions on the packaging intently, but there was really no doubt about the verdict. Remus was pregnant.

“I got you soup,” said Severus.

********

They carried their take away into the lounge. Sev whisked the sheeting off the furniture with his wand and started a fire in the fireplace. They ate on the threadbare sofa, staring at the flames, Remus curled against Severus. He ate about half of the container of soup and it stayed down all right. He even ventured a few bites of Sev’s curry.

“A baby.” said Sev at last, taking a finger and smoothing the short stubble on the side of Remus’s head.

“Yes,” said Remus. “A baby.”

“I’ve never much liked babies,” said Sev.

“Well, they don’t stay babies for very long,” said Remus gently. “They grow to be children, and eventually, adults.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true. I….I hadn’t even thought of that.” Severus set their take away containers on the floor, then pushed Remus back on the couch and kissed him. “You’ll be a good parent, Lupin,” he said.

“Do you think so?” said Remus. “The last time I was around a baby was when Harry was little.”

Sev grimaced at that but Remus kissed the frown away. “Don’t,” he said, smiling up at Sev.

“What?”

“Just… let’s go upstairs.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” said Sev. “I’m going to have you right here, on my parents’ parlor sofa.”

“What about my new pajamas?” said Remus with a sly grin.

“Go put them on,” said Sev, his voice gone low.

And Remus did.

************

Severus woke several hours later, tangled with Remus on the dusky rose plush of his parents couch. It was cold, the fire burned down to embers. He shivered. He summoned a quilt from upstairs, covered Remus and started dressing. Remus reached up and grabbed his hand.

“Stay,” he said, looking up from the couch with those piercing amber eyes. His face was all planes in the low light of the fire and he looked very young, somehow.

“You know I can’t,” said Sev.

Remus watched him dress and said nothing more.

“You need medical attention, Lupin,” said Sev as he rose from lacing his boots and stood at the fireplace to leave.

“Mmmm,” said Remus sleepily.

“I’ll bring Poppy round tomorrow night,” he said.

“All right.”

“I’d appreciate it if you could not let on….” his voice drifted off, uncertainly, unable to find the right term.

“What? That we’re fucking?”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” said Remus. “I’ll be discreet.” and Sev was gone through the floo in a puff of green smoke.


	4. At Malfoy Manor

Poppy questioned Remus long and hard about what he remembered from the werewolf camp, listened intently to his stomach with a long metallic tube fitted with two earpieces (“Don’t worry, it isn’t silver,” she said as she saw him instinctively wince away.) She peered in his mouth and ears and drew several tubes of blood from his arm. She then had a long talk with him about the dangers of male pregnancy, especially in werewolves. It was Sev’s impression that she agreed with him, that the best course of action was to terminate the pregnancy but Remus’ mind was clearly made up. With a little worried set to her mouth she handed him a bottle of Muggle pre-natal vitamins and several ministry approved pamphlets on pregnancy ( _The Stages of Pregnancy -Your Baby’s Magical Journey. Eat Right For Your New Little Witch or Wizard. Exercises for an Easy Delivery-It’s Like Magic!)._ Then she was gone, saying she would consult privately with the male pregnancy expert at St. Mungo’s.

Severus and Remus heated the leftover take away and and carried it up to bed.

*********

Severus woke suddenly to the familiar burning in his left forearm.

The Dark Lord, calling him.

Fuck.

He and Remus were in his bed, a tangle of sweat soaked limbs and blue satin. He had fallen asleep, afterwards, as usual. The clock on the mantel read 11:30.

He had to go.

Remus stirred, put his hand to the nape of Sev’s neck, pulling his head down for a kiss. Sev pulled away angrily.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked startling to fully awake at the sudden change in mood.

“This!” said Severus furiously, showing the mark where it glowed red against his skin.

“Oh,” said Remus.

“I’m never free.”

“No.”

“I have to go.”

“Yes.”

Sev pulled on his clothes angrily, and Remus watched him from the bed. His eyes were dark pools in the low light.

“Will he try to …...look into your mind?” said Remus.

“Yes,” said Severus. “That’s …...routine procedure.”

“But you can block…...all this?” said Remus, gesturing to himself, the tangle of clothes and blankets.

“I…..dammit Lupin. I don’t know!! He’s never gotten past my defenses before. But this is…. different. I feel exposed! As if everything is…..close to the surface. And I haven’t time to discuss it. I’ve got to go,” said Severus in anguish. “He’s waiting.”

“Sev, come here,” said Remus quietly.

“No! Fuck, Lupin! I’ve got to get you out of my head! Now!” The image came to him, unbidden, of Remus gasping beneath him, slick with sweat. The blue satin pajama top was bunched up around his shoulders, the pants pooling around his knees, his skin glowing, white and luminous, against the rich satin. Sev’s gut wrenched with an unpleasant combination of lust and terror. He couldn’t let the Dark Lord see _that._

“It’s just…..I know a spell.” Remus stood and pulled up the blue satin pajama bottoms. He was tall and way too skinny - how he could be carrying a baby Sev could not imagine. His stubbly head made him look like a prisoner -or a concentration camp victim. “Come here,” Remus said again, and there was something in his tone that brooked no arguments.

Sev stood in front of him and Remus put both hands on his shoulders. They both leaned forward, intuitively and their foreheads touched. Remus closed his eyes. A look of great concentration came over his face. In a hoarse whisper, he chanted a spell, to a haunting melody that reverberated through the room.

 _“Tarian rhag niwed,_  
_Gwaed ac asgwrn,_  
_Meddwl ac ysbryd,_  
_Ddaear ac carreg.” *_

It was wandless magic. Severus felt something shift inside him. His bones went light and crackly, as if they were filled with tiny bubbles. He felt a fizzing sensation in the back of his throat, felt the blood quicken in his veins. The air in the room felt electrified, the quiet a palpable thing.

Remus took a deep breath in and opened his eyes. His forehead was bathed in sweat. “All right?” he asked Severus.

Sev nodded. He still felt the tingle through him. He felt charged, hypersensitive. “What was that Lupin?”

“An old Celtic battle spell. It bestows strength to the warrior. It’s forbidden, these days. But my family has always used Celtic magick.”

“Yes, well, maybe it will work. Keep your wand with you,” he added, “In case it doesn’t.” He pulled on his travelling cloak. He left by the kitchen door, through the unkempt back garden, and past the wards into a deserted alley. From there, he apparated to the road outside Malfoy Manor.

**********

Sev’s boots rang on the frozen dirt of the country road. He cut a tall and arrogant figure in the moonlight. His robes whipped around his long legs as he walked, his cloak streaming out behind him. He was afraid, but that was nothing new. He was used to that. He had learned to use his fear to build the wall of occlumency that defended his mind from attack. He felt the pop and fizz of Remus’ spell in his bones. Maybe it would be all right.

The cast iron gates at the entrance to the lane were heavily warded but they recognized him. They opened at once, swinging easily inward on silent hinges and closing behind him. On the large lawn the peacocks burbled and grazed. The moon was bright enough to cast long, eerie shadows behind them. Sev strode up the drive quickly, trying to stay calm.

He had to appear determined, in control, as if a minor annoyance had kept him from arriving right away. He conjured up an image of wanking in the shower. That was a common enough occurrence, and it was near enough to the truth to add some legitimacy to the story. The Dark Lord would be adequately distracted by it. Voldemort was always uncomfortable around matters pertaining to sex.

Wormtail was at the doorway, Nagini at his side.

“Snape,” said Wormtail shortly.

“Good evening Peter,” said Severus sharply.

“You’re late,” said Wormtail.

Severus just gave him a leer, leaving the details to his imagination. Unlike Voldemort, Peter was a horny bastard, and fascinated by all things sexual. He smirked back, knowingly, and winked. Sev shuddered involuntarily.

In the dining room Sev slid into his place beside Bellatrix silently. The Dark Lord nodded at him and he felt the chill of Voldemort invading his mind. He focussed on the fake wanking incident, the tedious ins and outs of his day at Hogwarts, a particularly cruel remark he’d made to a first year, making her go red in the face and cry. That last instance of petty cruelty caused Voldemort a small shiver of pleasure, which Sev felt reflected back to him. Bastard. But Voldemort seemed satisfied. He turned his attention back to the ceiling , where two children were suspended, immobilized, rotating slowly, their eyes wide with terror. The little girl looked to be about 10. She was chubby. Her brown hair was mussed with sleep. Her knickers were worn and grey under her nightdress. The boy looked like her younger brother. He was wearing faded Spongebob pajamas, freckled, his thatch of brown hair standing straight up.

Sev knew they were going to die, right there, up on that ceiling and he felt sick. He prayed Voldemort would not choose him, for the killing. Usually he managed to avoid being the one to cast the actual spell. He looked around the table. Yaxley looked eager, as always. There were a couple of young recruits who probably would be more than willing. Gunther Goyle’s son, Gregory was fingering his wand impatiently. Almost like he’s wanking it, Sev thought, with mild disgust.

“Two Muggle born children,” Voldemort said in his high reedy voice. His deep eyes glowed red, his snake nostrils dilated. Nagini, slithering up beside him, lifted her head and hissed. Voldemort smiled at her, his white teeth glinting. A special smile of approval he reserved only for her. “Mudbloods,” he added, the slur ringing loudly in the tense silence of the room. “Brought to my attention through the efforts of my most loyal servant, Bellatrix.” He drew out the syllables of her name, lovingly, and Bellatrix looked at him with adoration. She was practically simpering, thought Sev. “Clearly a threat to the purity of the race. Their parents have all ready been…..disposed of. But we saved these…..“ He gestured upward. ”For your entertainment and enlightenment.”

The children rotated, their screams magically silenced. Sev looked around the table, his mind intentionally blank. He knew what was coming. The killing of innocents was one of Voldemort's favorite ways of opening a meeting. He watched Bellatrix, who was smiling maniacally. Avery looked bored, Yaxley, impatient. The Carrow siblings were there, barely able to contain their excitement at the anticipated display of violence. The Malfoys sat at the far end of the long table, pale and cautious, Draco between them. His look was guarded, but there was a thin line of sweat on his upper lip. After the incidents in the tower last spring, the Malfoys were in disgrace.

“Who will do the honors?” said Voldemort in his cold voice. “Who will rid the world of these mudbloods, this scourge on wizarding kind? Any volunteers?”

Yaxley raised his hand, and both Carrows, and Gregory Goyle. Voldemort surveyed the assembled thoughtfully. Sev had the fleeting fantasy of fleeing the country, just collecting Remus from Spinner’s End, getting on a Muggle plane, and going. He tamped it back quickly.

“The young people, I think, should have the opportunity to prove themselves. Gregory, I think,” Voldemort said grandly, as if he was doing the youth the greatest of honors. “And of course,” he paused for a moment, letting the tension build, “Draco.”

Sev felt calm, detached, but he knew he had to act quickly. He could not allow Draco to kill one of these Muggle children. Preserving Draco’s innocence had been Dumbledore’s dying wish, and it had cost Sev everything to keep that. He wasn’t going to let it be thrown away now. He felt the tingle, the pop and crack, of Lupin’s spell in his bones. He would have to use wandless magic. He gathered all the power he could muster, and silently uttered a short incantation. He felt the deep Celtic magic Remus had bestowed on him coalesce in his gut and heard a loud explosion in the front of the house. A startled yelp from Pettigrew, still on guard duty outside, penetrated the shocked silence in the dining room and then thick smoke with a foul stench poured in.

The smoke was dense, green and impossible to breath. It stank of rotten eggs. It burned the lungs viciously. There was nothing to do but escape as fast as possible. The assembled Death Eaters, including Voldemort himself, stumbled for the foyer and down the broken and cracked front steps, choking, gasping, cursing, hands to their mouths. Severus saw Gregory Goyle stop to vomit. Pettigrew, who had been close to the blast, was covered in blood and screaming, a persistent, high, childish note. In the ensuing confusion, Sev managed to use his wand surreptitiously to cut the children down and remotely apparate them away. By the time the smoke started to clear and people could see around, they were gone. For good measure he conjured a phoenix out of the smoke and had it fly above the crowd and hover over the ruined building.

Voldemort was rattled. This was an attack on a sanctuary he had always considered safe.

“Clearly the work of the Order of the Phoenix,” Sev supplied, as Voldemort looked around furiously. He gestured to the ghostly phoenix above, which was starting to break apart in the chilly November wind.

“But who?….. How?…. Dumbledore is dead! “

“Unfortunately master, there are other powerful magicians in the Order that remain alive,” said Sev. Voldemort looked at him narrowly. Had he spoken too quickly, too glibly? The art of lying was a subtle thing.

“There must be a betrayer among you!” Voldemort screamed, still looking at Sev. He immediately probed the minds of the crowd but Sev was ready for him, felt the crackle of the Celtic magick in his bones and blocked the intrusion easily. Voldemort passed over Sev quickly, and continued on to the rest.

“If there is a betrayer among you, be assured I will find them,” he said, his high voice pitched even higher with anger. “I will hunt you down, I will see that you suffer. This is an affront to my inner sanctum.” He turned to Severus “We shall have to find a new place to meet.”

“Of course, my lord,” said Sev, defferentially.

“Find the betrayer,” commanded Voldemort. Sev heard the fury in his voice. For a moment his gut twisted in terror. “Hunt them down.”

“Of course, my lord, ” said Sev again, his voice even, his countenance cool.

Voldemort strode out of the rubble of the entranceway, down the jagged steps and past the iron gate. Once he was beyond the wards he spread his arms and rose, over the trees and out of sight, into the moonlit night, leaving his dazed followers staring after him, among the smoking ruins.

 _*Shield from harm,_  
_Blood and bone,_  
_Mind and spirit,_  
_Earth and stone._


	5. The Muggle Borns

When Sev got back to Spinner’s End, Remus had the two Muggle born children settled by the fire in the parlor with mugs of hot chocolate. He had got them cleaned up, dressed them in old tee shirts of Sev’s he had drummed up somewhere. The girl wore a green shirt with Slytherin blazed across the chest in faded silver script. A faint silver snake wound its way lazily in and out of the letters, the spell he had cast years ago, old and worn out. The boy wore a black shirt with the mustard yellow emblem of Puddlemere United. They had been Sev’s quidditch team in his youth, when he cared about such things. Both the children were small enough that the shirts served as adequate nightdresses.

“This is Amanda and this is Gavin,” said Remus gravely to Sev.

Sev just nodded at them.

“This is the man who rescued you,” Remus explained.

Sev nodded again.

“You’re a bloody hero,” Remus said, looking at him.

“Less said the better,” said Sev curtly.

“It’s still true,” said Remus.

“They’re already a huge security risk.”

“Sev, their parents. They must be frantic.”

“Dead, “ said Sev shortly. “And don’t use my name.”

“Oh,” Remus looked over at the children with concern but they showed no reaction. Either they already knew, or they were too traumatized to react.

“Our dad’s alive,” said the little girl in a whisper.

“I thought your parents were killed,” said Sev.

“That’s our step dad,” piped up the boy. “Our real dad lives in London.” And he started crying.

“Oh Merlin,” said Sev and sank down into the spindly armchair by the fire. A little puff of dust rose from the burgundy velvet. He buried his face in his hands. In the quiet room the fire crackled and the little boy continued to wail.

“We’ve got to get them back to their father,” said Remus urgently.

“I agree,” said Severus. He looked over the children critically. “Do you know your father’s address?” he asked the little girl. He was trying to sound gentle but it didn’t really work. It came out harsh, imperious.

“Yes,” said the child tremulously, and she gave an address.

“Where’s that?” asked Sev, looking over at Remus.

“It’s in East London, near Hackney. I know the neighborhood. I lived there for a spell,” replied Remus.

“They can’t go back into the Muggle world,” said Sev. “They’ll just be picked up again. They’ll have to be hidden.”

“And the parents are Muggles?”

“That’s what they said at the meeting. Some one screwed up if they left the father alive. Didn’t do their research right,” Sev said. He couldn’t keep the grim satisfaction out of his voice. In the world of Death Eaters, one person’s failure was another’s opportunity. He looked up at Remus. “You’ll have to come with me.”

“I…..” Remus looked taken aback. “I haven’t been out of this house in weeks.”

“I know,” said Sev. “I don’t like it, but we’ll just have to risk it.”

Remus just ran his hand through his hair and looked at Sev in confusion.

“Lupin,” said Sev, realizing as he said it that he had broken his own rule and used Remus’ name. “Do you really think I can win the trust of some strange Muggle parent all by myself?”

“Right,” said Remus. “I’ll just get cleaned up, then, shall I?”

*******

They apparated to a dark alley next to the address Amanda had given them. Remus clutched tight to Amanda’s arm, and Sev held Gavin, who was still crying, though he had quieted down to a kind of snuffling into Sev’s collar. Amanda’s eyes were wide as saucers after apparating.

“Do you know where his door is?” asked Remus gently and Amanda led them across the way and up the stone steps of a white row house that stood in a shabby line of similar buildings. They were all leaning slightly to the left. The front door was unlocked. Amanda led them through a poorly lit foyer that smelled of cats and up two flights of stairs. There were doors to two flats on the landing. Sev set Gavin down and he stood beside his sister in front of the doors. She knocked on the lefthand one. It opened just a crack, and a gruff voice whispered, “Who’s there?”

“Dad, it’s us,” Gavin said, in his high childish voice and the next second the door was flung open and a large red faced man was gathering Amanda and Gavin in his arms with obvious relief. It only took him a moment to notice Sev and Remus lurking in the shadows, however, and with a start he stood, placing the bulk of his frame between his children and the two strange men, a look of hostility on his face.

Remus took a deep breath, and dove in. He could tell winning the trust of this Muggle stranger was going to be a challenge.

“Hello,” said Remus quietly. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name, and it’s safer if we don’t tell you ours, but I am here to tell that you and your children are in serious danger. We are here to offer you a safe place to hide.”

“Are you ...police?” the man asked suspiciously.

“No.”

“Kidnappers?” asked the man. “I’ve no money if that’s what you're after.”

“We rescued your children from the kidnappers.”

“My ex is dead,” the man said, eyeing them suspiciously. “And her husband. My kids have been missing for two days.”

“I know said Remus. “It’s horrible. But I’m asking you to trust us. It could have been far worse, if we hadn’t gotten to them when we did.”

“Why should I trust you?” asked the man narrowly. “How do I know you're not one of the killers. You…. haven’t shown me a badge or anything.”

“Ask them,” said Remus, gesturing to Amanda and Gavin.

“Dad, they helped us,” said Amanda, simply

The man looked from Severus to Remus and back. Sev was still in his traveling cloak. With his pale face, lank hair and dark eyes he looked otherworldly in the low light of the landing. He still had a smudge of smoke from the explosion across his forehead. Remus had done what he could to make himself presentable from Sev’s shabby collection of cast off Muggle clothing. He was in a black tee shirt, a tattered black jacket and faded jeans. Sev thought he looked rather handsome, then shook his head and tried to stay focussed. Remus’ Celtic spell was wearing off and his bones, no longer sparkling with magick, felt incredibly heavy and dense.

“That one,” Gavin said, pointing at Sev, “Got us off the ceiling and that one,” pointing at Remus, “Gave us hot chocolate.”

The father looked both children in the face. “You’re really all right then?” he asked hoarsely.

They both nodded solemnly.

“Best come in and explain, then," he said gruffly. He stood aside. Amanda, stepped forward, took Remus’ hand, and led him inside. Severus followed.

***********

  
Once inside Amanda and Gavin’s father locked the door and set a dead bolt above the knob. Sev and Remus eyeballed each other in silent agreement.

“I apologize,” said Remus to the strange man. “But we need to do something that will seem very peculiar, and we need to do it now.”

The man just nodded, tightly, and watched quietly, one arm around each of his children, as Sev and Remus got out their wands and warded the room. Sev took the left side of the door, Remus the right. They both went around, casting concealment and protection charms. Remus cast a final spell in Welsh, “ _Amddiffyn ac tarian hwn ty,” *_ and the room tingled with that unfamiliar, protective magick.

“What are you?” the man whispered when they were done.

Remus looked at him a long moment. “Can we …...sit down?” he asked.

It took a while. It took a long while. It took so long that Sev started to grow restless as Remus patiently explained the wizarding world to this poor, unfortunate, Muggle man whose ex-wife had just been murdered and whose Muggle born children were in mortal peril. He explained about Voldemort and his war, he explained about the Order and what they were doing to fight him, he explained about how Amanda and Gavin were, indeed, very special, but that they were not the only ones, that there was in fact, a world they were about to enter, a magical world filled with schools and shops and other children just like them. Amanda and Gavin sat on either side of their father, wide eyed, silent, taking it all in.

“I always knew my kids were different,” said the father at last. “Stuff would happen around them, you know, weird shit. One time…. How old were you Gav? Maybe four? Remember when you got that train set to run on the ceiling? I never could work out how you did that. And those little flying butterflies Amanda used to make out of leaves. I thought maybe I was going mental when I saw that.”

“It was magic, wasn’t it?” asked Amanda, looking at Remus, her eyes huge in her face.

“That’s right,” said Remus, gently, looking at her and smiling.

“I never could get them to keep the sprouts on their plates,” said the dad. “I knew they weren’t eating them, but they just…...disappeared.”

“We hate sprouts,” supplied Gavin, with a shy grin.

“So…….” said the man slowly, his eyes on Remus. They were small, set deep in his head, and slightly bloodshot. “You say me and my kids are in danger. You say these…. Wizard blokes killed my ex and her husband. What do we do?”

Remus looked over at Sev, who was sitting in a tattered armchair, watching the conversation, his forefingers steepled before him. It was a gesture reminiscent of Dumbledore, though where Dumbledore had always managed to look cooly detached, Sev somehow looked menacing. His eyes met Sev’s dark ones and they looked at each other a long moment.

“I think you’d best stay with us,” said Sev turning to the man. “At least for the night. The wards we put on this room will only last a few hours. And we’re going to need to keep the children safe. They’ll just be picked up again if they’re out in the world. Tomorrow I’ll work on finding a suitable safe house.”

“Go with you?”

“Yes,” said Sev.

The man turned to Remus with a questioning look on his face. “I agree,"  Remus said. “I know this is sudden. But it’s the only way to keep Amanda and Gavin safe. Do you have a job?" he asked the man. “Relatives who would worry? A girlfriend?”

The man shook his head and looked to the ground. “No,” he said and shuffled uncomfortably. “I’m…. on the dole. And no girlfriend, nor nothing. Just….them,” he said gesturing at Gavin and Amanda. Both kids got up and hugged him tightly. He ruffled their hair and looked embarrassed.

“All right, that’s easy then,” said Remus kindly. Sev had faded back into the shadows again. “Why don’t you just….er…..Pack up a few things and we’ll be on our way.”

“You’re the good guys, yeah?” he asked.

“We are,” said Remus.

“What about the bad guys?” he asked.

“We’re going to get them,” said Remus.

The man stood and looked at Remus for a long moment. He had a quiet dignity, in spite of his disheveled appearance and obvious rough circumstances. Remus had the distinct feeling he was being sized up. He had no doubt the man would do anything to protect his children.

At last he seemed satisfied. He extended his hand to Remus, who grasped it.

“Tim,” said the man. “My name’s Tim McAllen.”

“I’m Remus,” he replied, evenly. “And this is Sev.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Protect and shield this house.


	6. Talking

Late the next night Remus was in the library, books and parchments spread in disarray around him, his look intense, focussed. Amanda and Gavin and their father had kept him busy through the day, and he was tired, but now that they were all in bed his books beckoned him temptingly. He was eager to get back to his study of the Kabbalistic magic that he had started the other night. He had an idea that Sev might be able to use it to fortify his defenses against Voldemort. The Jewish people, after all, were experts at hiding. They had been fleeing persecution of one kind or another for centuries.

After an hour of absorbed study, with the quiet of the sleeping house dense around him, he heard Sev enter through the upstairs floo, his soft step descending the stairs. He entered the library quickly and showed Remus his arm, where the mark once again burned red.

“That spell, Lupin,” he said hoarsely. “I need it now.”

Wordlessly, Remus stood and touched his forehead to Sev’s and once again chanted the ancient incantation. Sev once again felt the pop and crackle of that strange unfamiliar magick in his bones.

Remus bent to kiss him, but Sev pushed him away roughly, a hand on his sternum. “Not now, Lupin,” he said. “I want you like fuck, but it will have to wait.”

Remus followed him through the parlor and out to the kitchen. Sev paused at the back door and looked at him for a moment. “How are the Muggle borns?” he asked “The children?”

“All right,” said Remus evenly. “They’ve been severely traumatized, Sev.”

Severus looked at Remus, his gaunt frame, his haunted face, his prisoner’s haircut. “Haven’t we all?” he said, and was gone with a swish of his robes.

********  
Voldemort had returned to his family estate in Little Hangleton and set up a kind of retreat there. Most of the Death Eaters did not know about it, only his most trusted inner circle were ever invited there. Since his takeover, he had bought it from the rich, absent Muggle who had kept it for tax purposes. Severus, as his main deputy, had worked on the purchase for him, although Voldemort was surprisingly nimble in the Muggle world. Well he’d grown up in it, according to Dumbledore. Severus had been tasked with finding the Muggle owner and confounding him to give a criminally good price. He had transferred funds for the purchase from a ministry account to a private one, and then converted Galleons into pounds for the purchase. Much of this was technically illegal, but as it was for the Dark Lord himself, Severus had no doubt that he would get away with it.

When Sev arrived Voldemort was sitting by the fire in the faded and dusty great room. Nagini had her head in the Dark Lord’s lap and he stroked it absently, with a finger, as one would a cat. Mostly, Voldemort wanted to talk. In a certain mood he would use Severus as a confidant. Severus always found this incredibly boring and tonight, with his worries mounting about Lupin, his blasted baby, and those two unfortunate muggle born children sheltering at his house, it was harder than usual to maintain his typical facade of interest in the workings of Voldemort’s mind. Much harder.

Why was it that all of sudden he had all these people depending on him? He wasn’t used to it. At all. He was used to moving like a fish through water, limber, unattached. He felt weighted down by the responsibility for the lives that had been thrust upon him.

He wanted Lupin. He wanted the feel of his skin against his own, his breath on his neck, the curve of his arse under his hands, the weight and heft of his cock in his fist. He wanted to feel him tremble with pleasure beneath him, hear him groan with release. He didn’t even know why he wanted it, but there it was. He needed it. He could hardly wait to get away and get back to it, but he couldn't think about that now. Quite the opposite. He had to put it completely from his mind. It was his greatest vulnerability, and the Dark Lord would use it against him if he uncovered it.

It was a good thing he had Lupin’s spell. It fortified him, kept his thoughts where he needed them to be. It gave ballast to his defenses. Though he was secretly bored he kept up a steady act of interested deference. He maintained a solid wall of occlumency, his true thoughts and feelings safely hidden behind it.

********

Remus woke to Sev’s weight settling over him, his lips seeking out his own, his need apparent.

“Lupin,” he breathed, his lips warm, insistent. “Wake up.”

“Sev, are you all right?” Remus said groggily.

“Fine,” said Severus, kissing him harder, sliding his hands under the satin pajama top.

“What happened?” said Remus wakening, shifting his weight so he was half sitting against the dark oaken headboard.

“Later,” said Severus, his hands circling around, cupping Remus’ arse. He kissed down Remus’ neck, to his collarbone and then lower over the satin pajama top toward his chest, his lips searching out the nipple through the slippery fabric. Remus pushed his head away. “Sev, I want to know what happened,” he said, a note of annoyance entering his voice.

“I….nothing happened,” said Sev looking at Remus in confusion. He bent to kiss him again.

“No,” said Remus, pushing him away again.

“You’re angry,” said Severus, lifting his head and looking at Remus with distress.

“Yes.”

“Don’t be angry.”

“I want to know what’s going on, damn it!”

“I need you!” Sev was starting to feel a little panicked.

“Then talk to me!”

“Talk about what?”

“Anything, Sev! Everything! You came stumbling in here frantic for help because Voldemort was calling you! Then you left, I didn’t even know where you were going. I want to know what happened with Voldemort! And what’s going to happen to Amanda and Gavin? I’ve got this traumatized family staying here with no idea what the plan is! We’re all counting on you, Sev! I need to know what’s going on!”

“I don’t want to talk!” said Sev.

“I want to know what happened with Voldemort!”

“No!.....Why?....you don’t need to know that!”

“Yes I do!” replied Remus hotly. His bristly hair was standing straight up. His eyes were wild.

“It isn’t….necessary! It isn’t even wise!”

Severus felt as it the wind had been knocked out of him. He had been counting on coming here, on touching Remus, on being held, on pleasure and release. This hurdle Remus was throwing down felt incredibly frustrating. He needed to fuck. He didn’t want to _talk._

He pulled away from Remus, and stood up so fast he almost lost his balance. He started pulling on his trousers, hastily, then his boots. He was angry now, too.

“You know I can help you,” said Remus. “But I need to know what’s going on.”

Sev said nothing, drew on his cloak.

“Talking’s not that hard, Sev,” said Remus from the bed.

Sev walked to the door, put his hand on the knob. He felt Remus’ gaze on him the whole way. He hesitated, then turned back.

Remus lay in the bed looking up at him steadily. There was an expression on his face that Severus found hard to comprehend. He saw the anger there, and the worry and the fear. But there was something else there, something he didn’t understand.

It gave him the oddest feeling. He stood at the door, uncertain.

Every instinct, every habit of mind and action, told him to strop out of the room and back to Hogwarts; proud, untouchable, invulnerable. Back to his familiar, lonely, room, where nobody expected him to _talk._ But…… something was holding him there. It was almost like a spell, this feeling. He wondered, for a brief, paranoid, moment if Remus had imperiussed him.

“Lupin,” he breathed.

Remus said nothing.

He didn’t know why talking felt so dangerous. His heart was pounding and his palms were wet. The truth was he hadn’t really talked to anyone in many years. Probably not since Lily had died. With her death he had become a spy, a double agent. Normal human relationships had become a luxury he couldn’t afford.

He stood with his hand on the doorknob and looked into Remus’ eyes. Remus gazed steadily back at him, the planes of his face accentuated in the low light. He realized that the unreadable thing he saw there was hope. Remus was hoping that he would change his mind. Remus wanted him to stay.

“I….I don’t want to leave,” Sev confessed. As he said it, he realized it was true.

Remus shook his head ruefully. “C’mere,” he said with a small smile, gesturing to the empty place beside him on the mattress. “I want to show you something.”

Severus moved stiffly back across the room to sit on the bed. It felt like a journey. He sat down heavily, the mattress shifted with his weight. He felt incredibly old and weary.

Remus took Sev’s hand and pressed it into his belly, just above his pubic bone and Sev felt the round fullness pushing back against his palm. The womb, just poking above the bony rim of Remus’ pelvis.

“The baby,” Sev breathed, “it’s really there.”

Remus smiled up at him and put his hand to the back of Sev’s neck, and pulled him close. His lips parted, his tongue grazed Sev’s lips and teeth delicately, sending a shiver to the base of his spine. For a brief moment, Sev hoped that maybe Remus would forget about his stupid ultimatum and just get on with it.

“Talk to me,” Remus breathed into Sev’s mouth, and Sev knew he was had. He wanted Remus too much.

“If I’m going to talk, I need alcohol,” said Sev.

“Fine,” said Remus.

Sev left the room and descended the stairs to the dark kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a dusty bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses. He sat on the bed, handing a glass to Remus.

“I can’t Sev, I’m pregnant.”

“One drink won’t hurt the baby. That’s a Muggle superstition anyway.”

“It’s not,” said Remus. “It’s a fact.” But he let Sev pour him a small glass of whiskey and raised his glass. Sev raised his in reply and took a sip. It went through him and warmed him instantly. He drained the remainder in one shot and poured himself another.

“Talk now,” said Remus. “Or no sex.”

So Severus talked. Once he got going it wasn’t hard. Once he got going he felt like he couldn’t stop. The words started flooding out of him. He described the Death Eater meeting the night before, the spell he had cast, the extra protection Remus’ spell had given him. He described his meeting with the Dark Lord, sitting and listening to his long redundant rambling. He described Voldemort’s anger, his paranoia, the probings at Sev’s own mind, all of which he had repelled, thanks, in part, to the spell Remus had cast.

“Then what happened?’’

”Eventually he sent me away. I think he went to bed.”

“Does he sleep?”

Sev sipped his whiskey. “Yeah, I think he does. He gets tired. You can kind of tell. His temper gets worse.”

“I wonder what he dreams about,” Remus said. “Does he ever have sex?”

“You would go right to that,” said Sev dryly, sipping his whiskey.

“Well I’m just curious,” said Remus. “Does he?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

Sev shrugged. “I used to get women for him sometimes, in the old days, before his first defeat. Since he’s been back, he’s not interested. Sex seems to make him….nervous.”

“Wow,” said Remus. “I wonder if he wanks. Does he still have a penis? Does he pee? Does he shit?”

Sev shrugged again.

“He eats?”

Sev nodded and poured himself another glass of whiskey. It was starting to loosen him up. He tried to pour some more in Remus’ glass but Remus waved him away. He took a deep swallow, closed his eyes for a moment and sighed as the warmth ran through him.

“What does he eat?” asked Remus.

“Not much, really,” said Severus. He held his glass to Remus’ lips and made him take a sip. Remus started to giggle slightly He reached up and stroked Sev’s long, black hair thoughtfully. His fingers felt good, sliding along Sev’s scalp.

“You’re going to get me drunk,” Remus said. “What does he eat?”

“I want to get drunk,” said Severus. “I want to get drunk and fuck you. He eats fruit and snake meat. And he drinks that blasted snake venom all day. Sips it from a little silver flask. Like a tonic.”

“Wow,” said Remus. “That’s disgusting. Does he drink?”

“Alcohol, no. Water, rarely. He does cocaine sometimes.”

“Really? Through that snake hole? That’s really disgusting.” And then he was laughing, and Sev was laughing and then Sev put down his glass and reached for Remus and started kissing him.

“Haven't we talked enough?” he asked and hoped he wasn’t whining. “Can’t we get down to business?”

“Mmm, soon,” said Remus. “You’re doing very well, by the way.”

“Don’t condescend,” said Sev, and nuzzled into his neck.

“Oh, that’s nice,” said Remus, relaxing into his touch. He tugged at Sev’s shirt. “Take this off and roll over,” he commanded. “I’m going to rub your back.”

Severus obeyed, the alcohol making him loose and compliant. Once Remus started digging and kneading at his muscles it felt so good he didn’t want it to stop.”Merlin’s balls, Lupin,” he groaned. “That’s almost as good as sex.”

“Mmmm,” said Remus, digging his fingers into the tense muscles beside Sev’s shoulder blades. “Oh wow, you’ve got a huge knot here.”

“Oh, fuuuuuck!” Sev said as Remus’s fingers probed deep into the muscles, working out the tension.

“Good?” asked Remus. “Or too much?”

“Good,” groaned Sev, huffing out his breath sharply. “Very…..good.”

“What about Amanda and Gavin?” Remus asked as he rubbed.

“I haven’t had time to ask around. I’m hoping…..oof….. Molly Weasley will take pity on them, though Merlin knows she got enough else to worry about…..Or……. oh, yeah, right there…..Andromeda Tonks. She’s running a safe house now, and she likes children.”

Remus kneaded. Sev was practically purring. “Were they…..all right today ?” he asked at last.

“They were fine. Quiet. They’re nice kids, Sev. They don’t deserve what happened to them.”

“None of us do.”

“No, I suppose not,” said Remus quietly. For a few minutes he just rubbed Sev’s back in silence and Sev wondered, sleepily, if they were done with the talking part. He felt so relaxed he almost didn’t care. Eventually, Remus came down from his perch on Sev’s arse and lay beside him, his hand still rubbing in a circular motion and kneading at the muscles. He looked Sev in the eye and asked “What about us, then?”

“Us?” said Sev.

“Why are you fucking me?”

“Why?”

“Yes.”

“Because I want to?” said Sev warily.

“I never knew you were gay.”

“I’m not gay, Lupin.”

“Are you sure Sev?” Remus asked. They looked at each other for a long moment and then they both just started laughing. Sev grabbed Remus’ face between his hands and their giggles melted into breathy kisses.

“Can’t we just…...save the discussion of my.…...sexual orientation…….for another time?” asked Sev between kisses, and Remus laughed again and kissed him back hungrily.

“You know I’m going to make you talk about it eventually,” Remus said. Sev noticed he was becoming a bit breathless.

“That’s obvious, Lupin,” said Sev, sliding his mouth over the angle of Remus’ jaw, which he rather fancied, and over to the sensitive spot behind his ear. “Just…..not now.” He took Remus' ear between his teeth and started nibbling.

Remus just gave a tiny gasp in reply. His hand was moving over Sev’s back more slowly now, no longer kneading, but stroking, in long sensuous swaths that made Sev’s breath deepen, his nostrils flare. Remus bent his head to kiss and lick. Between the alcohol and the massage Sev felt loose, relaxed untethered from his usual urgent need, enjoying the soft, certain movements of Remus’ hands and mouth. He just wanted to feel it all, every whisper of air, every movement of skin on skin. Remus slid off his trousers and pants, then kissed his way down Sev’s back to arse. Sev couldn’t help it. He was turned on, deep inside, as Remus’ hands kneaded his bum, and his tongue licked and explored the sensitive tissues around his opening. Would he let Remus fuck him? He’d said to himself he never would and Remus had never asked. But this felt good, good enough that he could see himself wanting more. Remus didn’t push it, however. After a few minutes that had Sev feeling like a melted puddle of desire, Remus flipped him over, fumbled in the nightstand for a condom and put it on Sev’s penis which was standing straight up. Remus straddled him and took him slowly, exquisitely slowly, and Sev just wanted to feel it all. He was barely breathing. His hips thrust upward and Remus moaned. He was beautiful above, eyes closed, his face tight with pleasure, his buzz cut dark with sweat. He built the rhythm, increasing his movement gradually and Sev felt his own pleasure building, a steady hum, deep in his gut. He sensed Remus’ growing excitement and his arse clenched, involuntarily. Remus grasped Sev’s hand to place it on his cock and bring him off. He was moving fast now, thrusting downwards again and again, his thighs gripping Sev’s hips, his arse squeezing his cock and Sev couldn’t hold back any more. He thrust, hard, into Remus with a moan. He heard him cry out, as if from far away, and then he was coming, the pleasure and relief washing over him in an enormous wave.

He fell right asleep afterwards, as usual, but when he woke a few hours later he found he couldn’t bring himself to leave. He pulled Remus closer to him and fell back asleep. In the morning, he awoke to Remus kissing him and they made love again, just because they could.

At last Sev roused himself in the early morning light and sat on the edge of the bed. He brushed Remus’ ear with his lips and whispered, “I liked the talking.”

Remus grabbed his left arm and pronated it so the white inner flesh showed. He kissed the mark that rested there lightly with his lips. “You’re very brave,” he said.

Sev lifted the sheet to expose Remus’ thigh, and kissed the old scar, the bite of the wolf that was etched there. “So are you,” he whispered.

“We’re both damaged goods,” observed Remus.

“Indeed we are.”

“Sev, the full moon is in two nights.”

“I know. I’ve all ready started your potion.”

“Where can I stay?”

“The cellar of this house should do.”

Remus nodded. “Bring chains,” he said, and shuddered. He rubbed the back of his neck, then his chin, which, Sev noted, had sprouted a heavy growth of stubble. Remus shuddered again. “It’s already starting,” he said grimly.


	7. Third Moon

It was a long and annoying sort of day. First year potions, then thirds, then after lunch his double NEWT class. The first years were easy enough, he had them properly cowed, but Sev always found the third years trying. They were charged up on hormones, distracted by each other, and cocky enough to start to challenge his authority. He had to leave in the middle of class, returning quickly to his rooms through the deserted corridors, to add tincture of silver to the wolfsbane potion and stir widdershins a dozen times. He watched with satisfaction as the potion turned from clear blue to silvery green, and released its strange burnt chocolate smell, but by the time he got back to his classroom his armpits were soaked with sweat and the third years were passing notes and throwing spitballs. The hapless seventh year student he had left in charge was reading a book without concern. Although Sev used his best icy, scornful manner to restore order, the rest of the lesson went badly.

He spent his lunch hour in the Room of Requirement, sorting through the abandoned detritus of generations of Hogwarts students, looking for an appropriate set of chains. Then, on his way to grab some food before his next class, he was waylaid by Minerva, who signalled to him, with a raised eyebrow, that she wanted to talk to him.

They never talked in their offices, assuming they were magically bugged, but there was an abandoned fourth floor bathroom they used when they needed to confer. Sev gave her ten minutes lead and, giving up on any hope of food, hurried to their meeting spot.

Minerva cast S _ilencio_ wandlessly, then said, “It’s the full moon tonight, Severus.”

“I am aware,” he said stiffly.

“Poppy told me of Remus’....condition.”

“Yes, well, there’s not much we can do about that. He refuses to terminate the pregnancy. Poppy is supposed to be consulting the male pregnancy expert at St. Mungo’s but of course she needs to be discreet.”

“He probably won’t survive it, Severus.”

“I know that,” he said.

“You can’t talk him out of it?”

“Why would he listen to me?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping maybe you could talk some sense into him. But I suppose he’s being stubborn.”

“Indeed.”

“And for tonight? What are you going to do with him?”

Sev opened his bag to show her the chains he had gathered. “My basement,” he said. “The wolfsbane potion is brewing in my office. It’s nearly done.”

“You can keep him safe?”

Sev shrugged. “I can’t keep him from miscarrying but I can keep him from biting Muggles on the streets of London.”

“Perhaps we should move him,” said Minerva, thoughtfully. “Somewhere more … rural.”

“It’s fine,” said Sev shortly. “I’m managing him.”

Minerva looked at him sharply. “You’re sure?” she asked.

“Yes.”

*********

Lately he’d found his NEWT class challenging. He had known these students a long time. He’d gone to school with their parents. Favoritism and cruelty were his usual methods of running a classroom, but it was wearing him down. Neville Longbottom, with a black eye and a gash across his forehead sat in the back row and glared at him with hatred in his eyes. He was flanked on either side by Pavarti Patil and Lavender Brown. Seamus Finnegan looked sullenly at the ground beside them.

In the front row the Slytherins sat eagerly, expectantly. They were used to some sort of confrontation, some display of humiliation or violence in his class.

He was so weary of the charade.

He got through the class with a stunning spell to Neville when he talked back and by imperiussing Lavender to hop like a bunny when she failed to add the lacefly wings to her potion in time. Light punishment by current standards at Hogwarts but it satisfied the expectations of the students.

His basement classroom had small windows set close to the ceiling. Severus watched the dimming afternoon light as it filtered  gloomily through them. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was November - the moon would rise early. He’d got Amanda and Gavin and their Dad to Andromeda’s safe house yesterday. At least that was managed, for now. He was worried about Draco, he knew every day he delayed getting him into hiding was a huge risk. And what was he going to do if the Dark Lord called him again? He felt anxiety simmering in his veins. He dismissed class ten minutes early, to the delight of his students.

*******

Just as he was hurrying back to his office, and the floo, and Remus, his impatience to get home mounting, he was stopped by Amycus Carrow. Amycus was wheezing and breathless, red in the face. He had Michael Corner by the ear.

“Caught him red handed this time," he huffed. “Graffiti in the hall by Gryffindor tower. _Potter Lives_ ,” he added with a sneer.

Sev felt his anxiety rise to an almost fever pitch, but he was going to have to deal with this. “What’s your parentage, boy?” he said to Michael, the scorn in his voice a reflection of the frustration he was feeling.

“I’m a pureblood,” Michael said defiantly, his eyes flashing fire. “Sir,” he added, spitting out the word.

“And yet you support Undesirable Number One?” Sev asked. Michael looked sullenly at the floor and did not answer.

"Do you understand that is a serious offense? This isn't child's play you know. You could go for Azkaban for this. Or worse."

Michael just stared at him, his face filled with hatred.

“He’s a blood traitor,” Sev said to Amycus shortly. “Do with him as you will. Within reason. The Dark Lord does not want purebloods permanently harmed. But see what you can do to persuade him to change his allegiances. It will be in his best interest.”

“As you wish sir," said Amycus giving Sev a truly maniacal grin. “See you at supper, then.”

“I…..have an errand,” said Sev. “A.....task to perform. I may not be back until morning.”

“A task?” asked Amycus, curiously, interested. “What task?”

“It is of a…...sensitive nature,” replied Severus. “Be assured I will let you know when the time is right. Best take care of..….that,” he added, gesturing to Michael.

“Yes sir, of course sir,"  said Amycus obsequiously and, still gripping Michael by the ear, hurried him away

*********

When Severus got to Spinner’s End he found Lupin in the sitting room. He was curled in a tight ball in a corner beside the cold fireplace. The front of his shirt was covered with vomit and the whole room smelled of sick.

“Don’t touch me Sev,” he said at once, his voice a feral growl.

Sev got out his wand. “ _Scourgify!_ ” he said, cleaning Remus’ clothes with a flick of his wand.

“Thanks, said Remus ruefully. “I…..I didn’t make it to the bog.”

“I’ve your potion right here," said Severus. He undid the stopper and handed Remus the flask. Silver smoke rose from the top. Remus shuddered, screwed up his eyes and took a sip, wincing.

“I’m scared, Sev,” he said.

“You’ve been through the change hundreds of times,” said Severus. “You’ll be all right.”

“I’m scared about the baby,” said Remus, and there were tears in his eyes.

Severus sat on the floor beside Remus and, in spite of his protestations, put an arm around his shoulders. Remus shuddered but let him do it. It felt steadying to hold him, though Sev could sense the tension in his body. His heart was racing, every muscle felt wound tight, ready to spring. “Shh, Lupin, it’ll be all right."

“Why would you say that? There’s no way you can know that.”

Sev just shrugged and looked at him.

“You don’t usually say things to me that aren’t true, Sev.”

Sev reached out a hand and pushed Remus’ hair back from his sweaty brow. ”You’re right,” he said. “I…...I must have been swayed by…..emotions.”

Remus took another sip of the potion, and shuddered again. But he seemed calmer.

“Better?" asked Sev hopefully. Remus nodded and took another sip.

“Does it help you to know that I fervently wish it will be all right?”

Remus answered by drinking down the rest of the potion in several long swallows and giving him a small smile. “Yes, it does, actually,” he said. A shaft of red light from the setting winter sun snuck in from the kitchen window, across the parlor and hit Remus in the face, casting him in a weird, unearthly glow.

“I’d best get down to the basement,” he said.

**********

It was a horrible night.

Severus chained Remus in the basement. He tried to kiss him but got pushed away. He could see why. Remus was no longer himself. His eyes were wild, his hair grown visibly longer, sticking out all around his head. His movements were jerky, as if his joints were no longer working right. “Go!” commanded Remus gruffly, his voice a growl. Severus climbed the stairs, shut and locked the door. He heard thumping from the basement, followed by a human cry of pain that deepened in timbre to the full howl of the wolf. Sev looked out the window of the sitting room and saw the white rim of the moon poking over the brick factory in the distance.

He knew he should probably get back to Hogwarts. There was nothing he could do for Remus until morning, and his frequent absences were starting to be noticed. But he couldn’t tear himself away, somehow. He knew he wouldn’t sleep. He pointed his wand to the fireplace and set it ablaze, went to the kitchen to fetch the firewhiskey, and settled himself in the armchair by the fire.

About four in the morning, when the frustrated howls and bangings of the wolf had reached a fever pitch, Sev went down in the basement and stunned him. He had no idea if it was the right thing to do, or if it would harm the baby, but he figured they all of them needed a few hours of respite. The wolf slumped in his chains, and Sev went back up to the armchair by the fire and dozed until daylight.

When the first rays of the sun poked over the brick factory wall, Severus ventured down to the basement. Remus was collapsed in his chains, unconscious. His naked body was white, beaded with sweat, but he was human once again. He looked incredibly small and vulnerable in that moment. Severus felt his heart do a strange flip flop when he saw him lying there like that. Remus' forehead was bruised and swollen from where he had repeatedly banged it against the wall. His shoulder was obviously dislocated. A long angry gash ran down his thigh. Sev had no idea how he’d got that. He had taken care to remove all sharp objects well away from the wolf’s reach. He had probably just scratched himself. Sev shuddered and set about putting things right.

He had a heavy iron key to unlock the chains. Remus fell into his arms, wincing. His eyes fluttered open and gradually came into focus. He smiled at Sev, briefly, in recognition, then winced again.

“My shoulder,” he gasped.

“Hold on a minute, Lupin. It’s dislocated. Let me fix it.” He muttered a healing spell, and Remus cried out as the shoulder clunked into place. His body sagged against Sev, who drew him in close.

“I made it through,” he murmured into Sev’s chest.

“Yes,” said Severus, relief flooding him. “Let’s get you upstairs and into bed.”

“How’s the baby?” breathed Remus.

Sev placed his hand on the spot where the womb was pushing insistently up and out. He poked about gingerly “Does it hurt?” he asked. It was impossible to know what was actually going on in there. Remus shook his head. “It feels okay,” he said.

“Probably fine then,” said Sev, decisively. “Bed, Lupin. Can you walk?”

Remus stretched tentatively and moaned. “Everything hurts,” he complained.

Getting Remus up the two flights of stairs to the bedroom seemed to take a long time. Sev supported him with an arm around his shoulders but his movements were feeble and ginger. Sev laid him, naked, between the sheets then rummaged in the upstairs bathroom until he found some ancient gauze, the plastic packaging yellow with age.

“Thank you, Sev," Remus, murmured, his eyes fluttering shut, as Sev wrapped his cut leg with the gauze. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Sev was kicking himself that he hadn’t thought to prepare a healing potion. He knew just the thing but it would take days to make. He looked through the medicine chest in the bathroom once more, but all he found were some Muggle aspirins, hopelessly out of date. He threw them in the bin in frustration. The plastic bottle made a loud ping as it hit the metal of the wastebasket. Then, thinking better of it, he fished out the bottle. He left it on the bedside table with a glass of water, and an ice pack charmed to stay cold. He took a last look at Remus’ sleeping form and hurried off to teach his morning classes.


	8. Muggle Football and Curry

By the time Severus got through his day at Hogwarts he felt his sleepless night was catching up with him. He had his usual roster of classes, a faculty meeting, then another meeting with a set of parents whose precious son was failing. (The student was from a long term Slytherin family with Death Eater connections. They were big donors to the school. He hated meetings like that.) After that there were three more students requiring punishment (Ginerva Weasley and a couple of younger Gryffindors who had written _**"Dumbledore’s Army Forever"** _ in ketchup above the entrance to the great hall). By the time he had dealt with them, he was jittery with exhaustion and anxiety over Remus. He fled to his rooms as soon as he could.

Once there, he took the floo to the old crumbling cathedral in the heart of his home town. He had got the fireplace there hooked up years ago. It was a convenient place to get to when he had errands to do in the village. There was a halfway decent curry shop on the same block.

It was already dark, and sleeting. He felt the penetrating, damp cold of late November. Sev’s boots were quickly soaked, but he was too distracted to cast a drying charm. He wanted sleep, and food, and the comfort of Remus in his arms. He wanted to know that Remus was all right, there, in the bedroom of his house on Spinner’s End, where he had left him that morning, white, naked and vulnerable under the quilt.

The curry shop smelled amazing but it was crowded. He stood in the agonizingly slow line, thinking he might die of impatience. When it was finally his turn he ordered a curry for himself and a clear noodle broth for Remus, then stood, waiting again, while their food was cooked. He was contemplating the cooler of fizzy drinks, wondering if Remus might fancy one, when he heard a hoarse female voice behind him.

“Sev.”

His hand went automatically to the wand in his pocket. He turned and was staring into the pale blue eyes of Petunia Dursley. She looked the worse for wear. Petunia had always been thin, but tonight she looked gaunt. The harsh fluorescent light of the curry shop highlighted the worry lines around her eyes, the grey coming into her hair. She looked, reflected Sev, as if she were in the middle of a war.

He gestured with his eyes to a far corner of the shop, beneath a steamed up window, where they could speak without being overheard. Petunia followed him and bent her head towards his. He knew she and her husband (what was his name? Sev could not recall) had settled in Little Whinging. It was the next town over from this one, where they had all grown up; Lily and Petunia and himself. But the Dursley's were supposed to be in a safe house up north. He knew that the Order had arranged it before the start of term, when Harry had turned seventeen, and the safety charms that Dumbledore had placed on their house years ago were no longer effective.

“I thought you were in hiding at Hestia’s,” he said in a low voice.

“We were, but …...it didn’t work out,” she replied quietly, her eyes to the ground. “We were never comfortable there, and well, they needed the space. There’s refugees and Muggle borns all over England who need safe houses. We’ve got two families staying with us at Privet Drive now. The house is warded and, well, we don’t go out much.”

“Who placed the wards?” asked Sev, an edge to his quiet tone.

“That Kingsley bloke and the girl with the hair that keeps changing color? Funny name?”

“Tonks?”

Petunia nodded.

“Should be all right then. Why are you out now? It isn’t…..safe.”

Petunia shrugged. “We’ve got to eat. And Dudders wanted a curry. Poor kid, it’s no fun for him, locked up in the house all day.”

Sev looked her in the eye “Be careful, Petunia,” he said. “The danger to you hasn’t let up. If anything, it’s worse.” They called the number on the white piece of paper he held. He turned to go but she clutched him by the sleeve.

“Sev,” she said. There was a note of desperation in her voice. He looked into her face and was suddenly struck by the resemblance to Lily. He had never noticed it before. The eyes were completely different but there was something about the set of the mouth.

“We hate him,” she said. “He’s ruined our lives. If you need help of any kind - we’re willing to do what needs to be done.”

He looked her in the eyes and nodded. He felt as if an understanding passed between them. “I will keep it in mind,” he said. “Stay safe, Petunia.” And he turned to collect his food.

*******

By the time he got to Spinner’s End he was soaked through from the chilly penetrating rain. He let himself in through the back door. The house was dark and quiet. He switched on the light, set his bag of takeaway on the counter and proceeded upstairs.

Remus was a lump under the covers but he stirred when Severus entered the room. The curtains were drawn and it was very dark. Sev heard the steady hiss of sleet hitting the windows. He lit the cold fireplace with his wand and the room was filled with orange flickering light. Sev crossed the room and sat on the bed, and Remus turned his white face to Sev. His eyes looked huge in his thin face, owlish, unfocused. Sev reached over and brushed the hair from his forehead.

“You awake?” he whispered.

“Waking up,” replied Remus groggily. “You’re cold.”

“It’s nasty out there. I got caught in the rain. I brought you soup.”

Remus sighed and stretched, Sev heard his joints pop and crack as it they were settling back into their normal configuration. “Good,” he said with a satisfied sigh. “I could eat. Have to piss first.”

“Can you manage?”

“I…..think so,” said Remus. He swung his feet to the floor but when he stood he nearly fell backward into the bed. “Sorry,” he said. “Maybe you should give me a hand.”

Sev helped him to the bathroom and back. Remus stretched again before he got back into bed, and it sounded as if every joint in his body was realigning itself. Merlin, did he go through that every month? He settled Remus in the bed, then went downstairs to retrieve the food.

“Get in and warm up,” Remus commanded, when he returned, so he peeled off his soggy socks and damp trousers and tucked his freezing cold feet into the tropical warmth beneath Remus’ thighs. He was starving and the food tasted great. Between bites he told Remus about his meeting with Petunia, and her offer to do what she could to fight the Dark Lord.

“I wonder if she could actually be useful to the Order,” said Remus thoughtfully.

“Everyone’s useful if you know how to use them,” said Sev. “Though it’s a little hard to imagine that husband of hers working for us. What was his name again?”

“Vernon,” supplied Remus with a snort.

“What an arse,” said Sev. “I always hated him. I went to their wedding, you know.”

Remus glanced up from his soup, a sharp look in his eyes. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“I was Lily’s date. It was probably the last decent night we spent together. She broke it off with me a few weeks later. And by the end of that year she was dating Potter.”

Remus continued to eat the soup while Sev watched him.

“You’re eating, Lupin,” he observed.

“Mm, it tastes good,” said Remus with enthusiasm. Then as Severus continued to watch him he said, “What?”

“It’s just…. I’ve never seen you eat that much before.”

“I’m hungry.”

“You’re not nauseous?”

“No.”

”You’re not puking.”

“No.”

“I wonder if you’re getting over it.”

Remus paused with the soup spoon halfway to his mouth. “It’s supposed to get better, the nausea and vomiting,” he said.

“Where are those pamphlets Poppy left you?”

“I think they’re still on the table in the lounge.”

“Have you looked at them?”

“No.”

 _“Accio pamphlets,_ ” said Sev and in a minute the pamphlets came sailing through the door and into his hand.

He rifled through and found the one titled, _"The Stages of Pregnancy - Your Baby’s Magical Journey."_ It had a cartoon drawing of a stork with a cartoon baby in a kind of sling he was holding up in his beak. The stork was wearing a jaunty postman’s cap.

“Oh dear,” said Remus

Sev opened the pamphlet with the air of someone who is soldiering on. He skimmed through, then paused, a long elegant finger pointing to a paragraph marked Second Trimester. Remus read along over his shoulder. “The nausea is supposed to get better after the third month,” said Sev, reading. There were a lot of cartoon bunnies and giraffes on the margins of the page. “How long has it been?”

“Third moon,” said Remus. “So just three months.”

“You're supposed to get your appetite back,” said Sev, reading on.

“Good,” said Remus.

“You’re supposed to start cleaning. Getting ready for the baby. Nesting it’s called.”

“All right,” said Remus. “This place could do with a good airing out.”

“You’re supposed to get more interested in sex. Merlin, I might have to tie you down.”

“You should talk.”

“Mmm. You should start to feel the baby move at about 18 weeks.”

“After the fourth moon, then,” said Remus. “I’m looking forward to that.”

He had eaten down to the bottom of his carton of soup and tipped the container up to get the last of the broth.

“Do you want some of my curry?” asked Sev.

Remus looked over at it. “Erm…. yeah, maybe,” he said.

Sev handed him the carton he was eating out of. He watched as Remus tucked in. He didn’t know why, but it filled him with a wild kind of happiness to see Remus eat.

When they were finished they set the empty takeaway cartons on the floor. “Thank you for taking care of me,” Remus said.

“It’s…….fine,” said Severus.

“I got through it.”

“Yes," said Sev. “You did. But we’re not going through that again.”

“What do you mean?” said Remus. “The moon always comes, Sev. There’s no changing that.”

“I know that,” said Severus. “But I’ll not have you chained in my basement again.”

“I see,” said Remus, his tone suddenly distant, defensive.

“That was horrible,” said Sev.

“Yes,” said Remus. “It’s…...always like that.” He shifted and turned away from Sev, looked out the window, at the sleet, hitting the glass  with a steady hissing sound. His fingers worried at a stray thread in the quilt.

“There are other places I can go,” said Remus. “There’s the cells at the Lycanthropy Institute. There’s the Shrieking Shack.”

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Oh,” said Remus. Then, after a long, cold pause, ”What did you mean exactly?”

“We’ll run,” Sev said. “If Sirius Black can learn an animagus charm, then so can I.”

Remus looked up at Sev, his eyes flickering between hope and fear. “You really mean that?”

“I never say anything I don’t mean.”

“As what animal?”

“I don’t know,” said Sev. “You know as well as I do that the animagus charm is unpredictable. We’ll have to see.”

Sev shoved him down and started to kiss him, but after a few minutes Remus broke away “Sorry,” he said. “I’m not good for much the night after the moon. I’m just ….still knackered.”

“No it’s all right,” said Sev quickly. It was suddenly awkward between them. He felt fidgety there in the bed in his underpants with his bare legs intertwined with Remus’.

“I’m exhausted myself,” he said stiffly. “I…..I didn’t really sleep last night.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No.”

And then, for some reason, he didn’t mind. Not really. He felt fatigue pulsing at his temples and Remus was obviously still ill. He was too pale, to the point where he seemed almost transparent, his eyelids heavy. Sev banished the dishes to the kitchen with his wand and went into the bathroom, pissed and brushed his teeth. He came back in the room, still in his underpants and the white button down shirt he wore under his robes at school. He fished a small wooden box out of the dresser, then got back in bed and opened it up. Inside was a bag of gillyweed, a packet of rolling papers and a lighter. Sev rolled a joint and set it down on the nightstand. He unbuttoned his shirt, chucked it on a chair and got into bed in his underwear. He dug in the bedside table and pulled out a remote control, pushed a button and the dusty Muggle TV in the corner crackled to life. He flipped through the channels until he found a football match. He lit the joint, inhaled deeply, and offered it to Remus.

“Can’t,” Remus said with regret. “Baby.”

“Oh.” said Sev. The sweet smell of gillyweed filled the room “Right.” Outside hail still lashed the windows. Inside the fire crackled reassuringly. Sev put his arm around Remus and pulled him close. He sighed. Remus could feel his muscles loosening. “This is nice,” Severus said.

“Muggle football Sev? Really?”  
`  
“It relaxes me,” he replied, inhaling on his joint. “I used to watch it with my dad. It was just about the only thing we ever did together.”

Remus settled into Sev’s arms. “This _is_ nice,” he agreed, watching the tiny figures running about in the green field. He sighed, and rested his head against Sev’s chest. His eyes were starting to close. Sev’s heart was a steady thrum against his ear and his arms were firm around Remus, anchoring them together. The sounds of the Muggle football game made a soothing background noise and in no time at all he found he was drifting off to sleep.

 

********

Remus woke to Sev’s screams, wrenching, anguished sobs of terror. He had his wand hand stretched out before him, as if casting a spell or a curse, but his eyes were wide and empty. Remus stirred and shook him, but the dark eyes, all pupil, took what felt like a very long time to lose their blank stare and gradually focus on Remus’ face. Remus shook him again.

“Sev!”

“Lupin,” he gasped at last, the look of anguish still on his face.

“You were dreaming,” said Remus.

“Yes.” Sev was breathing fast, his forehead beaded with sweat. “I…. must have been. It seemed…..so real.”

“Voldemort?” Remus guessed.

“No,” Sev choked out. “Dumbledore.” He buried his face in Remus’ neck then, and cried, great wrenching sobs that shook his body, soaking Remus’ nightshirt with his tears. After a long time he quieted.

Remus held him so long he thought he’d gone back to sleep, but then Severus stirred and looked up into his eyes and said, “I killed him, Lupin.”

“I know,” said Remus.

“I…..I didn’t want to.”

“I’ve guessed as much.”

“He made me do it!” said Sev, angry and suddenly childlike.

“What happened Sev?” said Remus his voice quiet, steady, far away. The voice Sev had started to think of as his dangerous voice. But at least Remus was asking. Not condemning him outright.

So Sev told. The story of the fatal curse, the ring with the black stone, Dumbledore and his withered arm, and the terrible duty he had put on Sev. To save Draco’s soul. To kill him, Dumbledore, the man who had been Sev’s mentor, teacher, and only friend.

Sev’s tears were spent and Remus listened to the story quietly. He had worked some of it out already. He had the sense of things falling into place, of truths half guessed at revealed. He knew how close Severus had been to Dumbledore, had seen Dumbledore's’ withered arm, had guessed at the nature of the curse that had caused it. He had been deliberately not thinking about that night in the tower, these past few weeks. He had been deliberately not thinking about what Sev had done.

Now that he knew the whole story, he saw what Dumbledore had asked of Sev, and what it had cost him. It made him feel slightly sick, although perhaps that was just the baby. Dumbledore had been Remus’ mentor as well, he reminded himself. He never would have even gone to Hogwarts if Dumbledore hadn’t given him a chance. But he sometimes wondered if Dumbledore had a hidden agenda. He sometimes felt that they had all just been pawns in some grand game of chess he had been playing. And in that game, he saw now, Sev had been asked to sacrifice more than any of them.

His thoughts turned to Harry, and the worry that had been building in his mind over the boy grew. He knew, in his heart, he had once again let Harry down. This thought was so painful, he had just been avoiding thinking about it. He was suddenly flooded with remorse. Sev was going to save Draco, but Dumbledore was dead. Sirius was dead. Who was going to save Harry? He, Remus, was the only one left.

And here he’d been, these long weeks, shut up at Spinner’s End. Hiding. Pregnant. Too heartsick and nauseous and broken to think straight.

“Sev,” he said now, in a low voice. “Where’s Harry?”

Sev didn’t reply right away. Finally, he said “Dumbledore had a special mission for Harry.”

“Mission? What is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know.”

“No one knows, Lupin. Not Kingsley. Not Minerva, Not Molly and Arthur. He won’t tell anyone. Just says it was between him and Dumbledore and that Dumbledore told him not to tell anyone.”

“But that’s…..insane.”

“Well, it’s frustrating. But not surprising, knowing Albus.”

“And you don’t know where he is?”

“I do not. He took off with Weasley and Granger after the Dark Lord seized the ministry and no one has heard from them since."

“No one?”

“No one.”

“And Dumbledore didn’t tell you? What it is? This mission he’s sent Harry on?”

“No,” said Severus. “Even in death - he won’t tell me.”

Remus felt as if he had been sucker punched. Somehow, in the back of his mind, Harry had been with the Dursley's over the summer, then safe back at Hogwart’s. Although, now he thought about it, Hogwarts would no longer be a safe place for Harry. But Harry was gone, off on a secret and obviously dangerous mission. And Remus had failed him once again.

The grey light of dawn was creeping into the room, around the drawn curtains. The sleet had stopped but the air outside the warm haven of their bed was frigid.

“I have to get back,” said Sev. “I’ll tell you one thing more, though, before I go. I’ve got to get Draco into hiding. The Dark Lord is after him. He’s going to make a killer of him or kill him outright, I’m not sure which. But Albus died to save that boy’s soul, and I’ll be cursed to hell and back before I let him throw that away.”


	9. Traitors

The following evening, Severus apparated once again, to the country road outside of Malfoy Manor. Just the week previously he had been here and blown up the front of the house, and gotten Amanda and Gavin away. This time he ducked into the woods towards the back of the dark stony structure.

Night was falling. The rain had stopped but a chilly mist was rising from the damp ground. The underbrush sparkled with moisture as Sev picked his way cautiously through it. Across the sweeping back lawn, the lights of the manor glowed bright. Bellatrix was in there, Sev knew, and Lucius and Narcissa and Peter Pettigrew. Since the fall from grace of the Malfoy family, Peter had been stationed there as a kind of spy. The arrangement seemed to suit him.

“I’m livin’ the life now,” he’d bragged to Severus. “In the lap of luxury. Not that them Malfoys can enjoy it. They’re in disgrace, they are. But the Dark Lord, he trusts me to keep an eye on them.”

This was all fine with Sev, who had hated having Pettigrew lurking around Spinner’s End. After he had moved out, Sev had set extra wards specifically against him.

Now in the growing gloom, he waited. Christmas was coming and through the large windows that looked out over the grounds he saw a brightly lit tree dominating the great room, sparkling with fairy lights. He saw the people moving around, Lucius, Narcissa, then Draco. He was too far away to see the expression on his face but from the set of his shoulders Sev could guess how he was feeling. Bored. Restless. Trapped. The natural feeling of every adolescent when stuck at home with their parents, magnified by the fact that Draco had no choice. It was like the Christmas holidays that never end. Every teen’s nightmare.

Sev waited until the inevitable moment when Draco’s pale peaked face looked out into the wet garden. _“Escripto”_ he murmured, and wrote _**Draco** _ in shimmering green letters. The word hung in the misty air of the garden. Sev gave the message 10 seconds, then dissipated it with his wand in a shower of green sparks.

A few minutes later, a tall, slender figure, wrapped in a black cloak, came through the gloomy yard, cautiously making his way through the wet grass. Draco looked drawn, too thin, his long, skinny nose and his widows peak both standing out starkly in his pale face. He started when he saw Severus, and turned even paler, if that were possible.

“Snape!” he whispered, the fear written large on his face.

“Professor Snape, Draco,” Sev replied.

Draco swallowed hard. “Professor Snape. What do you want with me?”

“Draco, you’re not safe here.”

Draco looked at him suspiciously.

“What are you on about?” he asked.

“There’s a Death Eater meeting in two nights,” Sev said.

“I know that.”

“You know what’s going to happen,” said Sev.

“Ye….es.”

“Are you prepared, Draco? Are you prepared…...to kill?”

“What’s it to you?” asked Draco suspiciously.

Severus had anticipated this question and had decided in advance on the approach that Draco would find easiest to accept. “I swore to your mother to keep you safe.”

That got Draco’s attention. “You….did?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“It’s over a year ago, now. An unbreakable vow.”

“An….unbreakable? How? Why?”

“She asked me to,” said Sev simply. “And I agreed. She’s terrified for you Draco. That’s why I’m here. I want you to come away with me.”

“What about father?” asked Draco sharply. “Does he know you’re out here in the rain, luring me away?”

“Lucius is…..distracted currently. I’m not sure he’s able to attend to…….what’s in your best interest.”

“That’s true,” said Draco, the arrogance suddenly leaving him. He seemed deflated, cast down, by Severus’ words.

Well, Sev certainly knew what it was to have a father who wasn’t paying attention.

“It’s time to get out, Draco,” said Sev urgently. “It’s kill or be killed. So unless you are prepared…...to kill, to murder, to cast the killing curse……and I warn you, if you don’t really meant it, it won’t work….. unless you are prepared for all that, then it’s time to run. Because once you are in that meeting, he _will_ choose you to cast the spell. I am certain of it. He has been working up to it for months.”

“What makes you think I can’t do it?” said Draco defiantly, childishly.

“Can you?” said Sev.

“I…..I don’t know,” confessed Draco, his eyes wide.

“If you fail, Draco, he’ll kill you next.”

“I know that,” whispered Draco. His face had grown even paler. He stared at Sev for a long moment. “What do I do?” he whispered.

“I can get you out,” said Sev simply.

“Why would you do that, professor?” and Sev heard a hint of Draco’s old arrogance in his tone.

“I’ve all ready told you.”

“If I run away, they’ll come after me.”

“There are safe houses, places I can hide you, where you’ll be beyond the reach of your father. Or…. the Dark Lord.”

“I’d be a traitor.”

“Your choices are severely limited.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” replied Draco, anger flaring.

“Come away with me before the meeting,” Sev urged. “If not tonight then tomorrow. I can come back for you if you wish.”

“You’re a traitor too,” Draco said, looking at him narrowly.

Sev just nodded once.

“Why are you doing this?”

Sev turned his arm over and showed Draco the mark burned into the flesh. “I have killed for him,” Severus said. “I have killed for him many times over. Trust me, Draco, it has not been worth it.”

Draco stared at Severus open mouthed. “I shall return to this spot at this time tomorrow evening. If you wish to come with me, be ready.”

And he receded into the growing darkness of the wet woods, with Draco’s astounded gaze upon him.

 

*********

  
Remus felt …..good. Surprisingly good. Better than he had in months. This sense of well being was so unaccustomed that it felt very peculiar. Remus had become used to a state of physical and emotional misery that had started when Sirius had died and that had ended up with him a prisoner of Fenrir Greyback, hungry and cold, tortured, raped and experimented on against his will.

After Sirius had died, Remus had been, simply, heartbroken. He had felt a despair deeper than anything he had yet experienced. He had returned to Grimmauld Place, to the room he and Sirius had shared, to the bed they had risen from together, to go help Harry. The pillow was still indented from Sirius’ head, his meagre possessions scattered about the room, in his careless way.

Remus had stood in the middle of that room for hours, too heartsick and shattered to shed a single tear.

Remus had stayed on at Grimmauld place because he had nowhere else to go. It had been abandoned by the Order because of the security breach. Various old friends came round to comfort him, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, Andromeda, but he was not easily consoled. Nymphadora had tried to seduce him, out of kindness or genuine interest, he really wasn’t sure, but that had ended badly. He’d managed to get himself a job, cashiering at a Muggle chemists, but then the moon had come and he couldn’t get the day off. He’d called in sick and got sacked. The story of his life, really. That month he’d chained himself in the basement of that spooky old house, as lonely and desolate as he had ever been.

The next few months had been spent fruitlessly looking for work, trying to stretch his meagre savings, eating little, enjoying less, his heart aching with loneliness. During the full moons he had dutifully chained himself in the basement of Grimmauld Place. And that’s where they’d picked him up. Greyback’s men, shifty, desperate types with no better opportunity than working for an infamous werewolf. Men with a taste for cruelty and for blood. He’d woken from that moon in handcuffs in a lorry heading to Greyback’s enclave up north, surrounded by the sour, unwashed smell of his lackeys. He had no idea what had happened to his wand.

Greyback’s enclave was a cold and dirty camp, with a large cement block house for the prisoners and a low, wooden bunkhouse for Greyback and the werewolves he had recruited to join him. The human guards slept in tents in the field, their fires greasy and smoky in the dark cold nights. The whole affair was surrounded by barbed wire and lit with garish flourescent lights, strung on high poles that emitted a deep persistent hum.

And it stank. Remus did not think he would ever get the stench of that place out of his nose. Urine and garbage, blood and fear.

Remus had been a “special" prisoner, because he was a wizard, but that actually made things a good deal harder for him. He was kept isolated, in an extra security cell. They were afraid he would use magic to escape, although he had no wand. The guards tended to single him out as an object of their sadism. He was raped repeatedly, especially those first few months, left on the cement floor violated, cold and broken. The moons were terrible. There was no wolfsbane potion there. Every month he felt the full force of the wolf within him, and raged in his cell, banging himself endlessly against the bars, surrounded by the howls and shrieks of the other prisoners.

Voldemort had come to him there, flanked by dementors, and Remus experienced a taste, first hand, of what Sirius had gone through. Voldemort was accompanied by Yaxley, his most trusted torturer. Remus had relied on his Celtic magic then, to keep the secrets of the Order hidden, although his relationship with Sirius was exposed, his life as a gay man, and of course that information was used to disparage and torment him further.

It was in this setting that he heard that Albus Dumbledore had died at the hand of Severus Snape.

The medical experiments had started in the late spring and had gone on through the sweltering days of summer. Remus’ cell was unbearably hot and stuffy, but the subterranean lab they dragged him to in chains had a perpetual chill. The man in charge of the lab, Dr. Dionysius Cutler performed his own version of sadism. Remus remembered him from school, a Slytherin, a quidditch player. He had been a few years ahead of Remus and had been considered gifted in potions and transfiguration. Remus had heard that he’d joined the Death Eaters after school, and turned his considerable talents to nefarious ends, working with Voldemort on spells to create inferi and control other dark creatures. Male pregnancy was apparently one of his areas of interest.

He learned a lot from Remus.

There were other subjects as well, haggard men, werewolves all, that were part of the experimental group. One of them was probably the other father of his baby. Because Remus was a wizard as well as a werewolf there was a lot of interest in his case. Greyback himself visited the lab frequently, to check on him and go over the copious records being kept by Dr. Cutler. “This one’s prime,” Greyback would say, leering into his cage at him. “Don’t kill this one off.” Indeed, several of the men had all ready died as a result of the experiments being performed on them.

It was all deeply humiliating, what happened to him under the florescent lights in the perpetual chill of that lab. There was the humiliation of being forced to wank into a paper cup, surrounded by the leering eyes and jeering comments of the guards. Blood was taken from his arm, he was given foul smelling potions to drink, and finally, those metal probes and scopes, placed inside him through those three tiny incisions, slithering through his insides.

Afterwards he was sent back to his cell in the blockhouse, where the stultifying heat of summer turned to the chill of autumn. He went through two more moons before he was rescued, as he became more and more certain that there was, indeed, a baby growing inside him. Food was scarce at the camp, and, in spite of the special interest they had in him he was half starved, and weakened. He barely remembered the night he was rescued, he was so ill and depleted. It was all a blur, a flash of purple fire, the crack in his cell wall, Minerva McGonagall, in the form of a cat, urging him out. Once he had squeezed through the crack he saw two hooded figures standing with wands out, three night guards stunned at their feet. They had scrambled through the barbed wire fence, past the wards, and deep into the woods surrounding the encampment. The hoods had come off, revealing Bill Weasley and…. Severus. Remus wasn’t completely shocked to see Sev. He was after all, aware that he had been working as a double agent for years. Then Sev clenched his hand around Remus's upper arm tightly enough to leave marks and he felt the tight squeeze of apparition. He must have passed out then, because the next thing he remembered was waking up here, in the strange old fashioned bedroom at Spinner’s End, with Sev holding a cup to his lips, making him drink.

The past few weeks at Spinner's End had been almost equally as disorienting. The severe isolation, the constant nausea, the boredom, the strange, unfathomable affair with Severus, so unexpected and intense, the constant worry over the unborn baby growing inside him…….it had all been so strange. He felt untethered, not really himself. It wasn’t until after this last moon that he had started thinking clearly, it seemed.

Since the moon, he felt …..better. The nausea had definitely abated, and he was….hungry. He hadn’t felt hungry in so long. He’d had scrambled eggs and toast for lunch and made rice he’d found in a canister for tea, and heated up a dusty looking can of beans. The bread and oranges that Sev had left in the kitchen a few days ago were almost gone.

He’d spent a good part of the day cleaning out Severus’ old room on the south side of the house, the room he’d started to think of, foolishly, as the nursery. But before that, this room was going to be turned to another purpose. Severus had told him he was hoping to bring Draco Malfoy to Spinner’s End this evening.

The room was filled with outgrown clothes and discarded school notes. There was a potions award from sixth year, Sev’s full name _Severus Prince Snape_ written in faded gold script, Sev’s _N.E.W.T._ certificate, a sheaf of photos of Lily, from the time she was a little girl, through gawky adolescence and into blooming young womanhood. In these photos she was happy and vibrant, smiling into the camera, sticking out her tongue, giving the finger, kissing Sev on the cheek. He boxed it all in some cartons he dug out of the cellar, and magicked them up to the attic with his wand. He found clean linens in a cupboard in the hall, dusted and swept, washed the grimy window that looked over the back garden.

Remus stood at the window in the clean room and looked down at the tangle of dead weeds and overgrown bushes. He was relieved that the baby had survived the moon. The small rounded bump, the magical uterus starting to poke its way right above the brim of his pelvis felt firm, it felt…..alive, as he pressed at it gingerly with flattened fingertips. He thought of Sirius, how he and Sirius could have raised this child together, and his heart twisted with sorrow.

He wondered if it would ever get better, if he would ever heal from this, the worst loss of all the losses he had endured. He had been sure that he would not. But now, there was the baby. There was this peculiar, surprising, relationship with Severus. He shook his head as he imagined what Sirius would say to that. But the thought brought an unexpected smile to his lips. " _This is how pain gets transformed into memory,"_ he thought. It had taken years for him to be able to think about James and Lily and the happy times they had all had together without being cut to the quick. Could the same ever happen with Sirius, he wondered.

He heard the key in the lock, voices downstairs. Remus descended to the kitchen and Sev was there with Draco Malfoy.

Draco looked at Remus in obvious confusion.

“Hello Draco,” said Remus.

“Lupin,” breathed Draco. “What’re you doing here?”

“Professor Lupin,” corrected Severus.

“I’m no one’s professor anymore,” said Remus. “Lupin will do.”

“He is under my protection,” said Severus. “Same as you. I expect you to treat him with the utmost of respect while you are in this house.”

“He’s…. wanted by the ministry,” said Draco.

“Yes,” said Severus.

“You really are a traitor, then,” said Draco, with the air of someone who is piecing things together.

“My alliances are…..a complicated topic,” replied Sev. “Since I am offering you protection I am counting on your utmost discretion. By bringing you here I am taking an enormous risk. I hope that you will repay me by keeping my trust.”

“You _are_ working for the Order,” said Draco. “Bellatrix is right!”

“Your trust Draco, can I count on it? Remember, I have saved you from an evil destiny.”

“I’m to live here, with the werewolf?”

“Yes.”

“What about the full moons?” asked Draco.

“That’s…...managed,” replied Severus. “He will be removed. There will be no danger to you.”

“All right,” replied Draco evenly. Remus had no idea what he was really thinking.

“Will you swear, to keep out trust?" asked Sev, though Remus thought he should have secured this before he brought Draco here. He supposed Draco needed to see, see what was being asked of him. “Will you swear by an unbreakable vow?”

Draco looked at Sev a long minute, then at Remus, then back to Sev. A cool, appraising stare. “ _He’s made of the same stuff as his father_ ,” thought Remus before he could stop himself.

“All right,” said Draco, cautiously. “If you will swear to keep me away from That Psychopath.”

“Yes,” said Severus at once. “I will do everything in my power to protect you from him. Lupin?” he asked, looking at his lover with an intense gaze.

“Yes,” said Remus. “I will.”

“An unbreakable vow, then," said Sev. “Lupin, if you will be our bonder.”

“Of course,” said Remus and reached for his wand.

Sev grasped Draco’s hand. “I swear,” he said, “To protect you from the Dark Lord. To keep your whereabouts secret, and to fight to protect that secret, at the cost of my life.” Remus touched their clasped hands and a thin red line of fire shot out from his wand and twined around them, like a wire.

“Now Draco,” said Remus evenly.

“I swear,” replied Draco, “To keep the secrets of this house and not betray you to the Dark Lord, as long as it is in my power to do so.”

“Lupin too,” said Sev, huskily.

“Lupin too,” agreed Draco.

“At the cost of your life,” said Sev.

“At the cost of my life,” said Draco.

“So be it bound,” said Sev.

“So be it bound,” agreed Draco. The red flame glowed a deeper red, wound itself twice more around their intertwined hands, so three rings of flame bound them together.

“So be it sworn,” said Remus, tapping their clasped hands.

“So be it sworn," replied Severus and Draco together.

 Remus tapped their hands one more time and the flame flared bright orange and disappeared. Draco let go of Severus’ grasp and shook his hand as though it had fallen asleep.

“I made rice and beans,” said Remus, into the awkward silence. “Is anyone hungry?”

“Did you?” said Severus, smiling at him suddenly. That smile of Severus, so unexpected, so precious for it’s rarity. Remus couldn’t help smiling back.

“I am actually….” said Sev. “Hungry.”

“Me too,” said Draco at once.

“All right, then,” said Remus. Next thing he knew he was heating up the rice and beans and serving it out, then showing Draco to the room he had prepared for him. Draco retreated into it without a backward glance or a word of thanks. Remus went downstairs to find Sev pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey. He raised his glass to Remus and drank deeply.

“I’m glad you’re saving his soul,” said Remus, “But he’s still a surly little bastard.”

“I know,” said Sev. “That’s why I like him so much. Let’s get to bed, shall we?”

“Yes,” said Remus, “Definitely.”

He put his arm around Sev’s shoulders and they climbed the stairs together, leaning into each other. Once they were alone in Sev’s bedroom, he cast a silencing charm and locked the door with his wand.

“Come here, Lupin,” Sev said, throwing himself down on the bed and reaching out his arms.

“All right,” said Remus. But he stood for a moment, and looked down at Severus appraisingly. “You did a good thing, getting him away from That Bastard.”

“I had to,” said Sev. "It was kill or be killed. No other choice. Come let me hold you.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“It was Albus’ dying wish,” said Severus. “And Lucius is…...befuddled. He will sacrifice all for the Dark Lord, even his own son.”

“He is Sirius’ cousin,” said Remus. “I will do what I can for him.”

But Severus suddenly felt cold.

“Is that the way it is, then?” he asked Remus.

“Sorry,” said Remus. “Yes.”

Sev just looked at him.

“It’s all right” said Remus. “I respect what you are doing.” And he lowered himself onto Sev, and pressed into him. Sev felt his arousal through their clothes.

“I want you,” Remus said. “It’s just….Sirius still has my heart.”

Sev had no idea how to respond to this. His damn emotions were roiling inside him again, but Remus was there, right on top of him, pushing in with his full weight, his mouth hungry, yearning, against Sev’s own. At least his body knew how to respond, and in the end, he said nothing, and lost himself in Remus’ touch.


	10. "No"

Remus was wakened by Sev a few hours later,

“Lupin,” he said hoarsely. “There’s a meeting tonight. I need that spell.”

Remus felt like he was being called from a million miles away. Groggily he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“What time is it?” he moaned.

“Just gone eleven,” said Sev.

“When’s the meeting then?”

“Midnight.”

They were both naked and sticky, the bed smelling fragrantly of sex, a warm nest in the cold room, their clothing scattered haphazardly around them.

Remus reached up and started kissing Sev.

“I musn’t be late,” moaned Severus. “I was late last time. It’s going to start to look suspicious.”

”Sev, listen,” said Remus, pulling away from him, his face gone serious. “I can do that spell tonight, but you need a back up. You’re not going to be able to get to me every time Voldemort calls you. You need something else, some extra protective spell you can do yourself.”

Severus looked at Remus warily. “What do you suggest?”

“Kabbalah,”said Remus.

“Oh,” said Sev. “You found my father’s books.”

“I figured they must have come from him,” said Remus. “He was Jewish, wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” said Severus. “He was.”

“There are some protective charms that look really powerful. At least as powerful as the Celtic one I’ve been using. There’s numerology, amulets, it’s all really quite fascinating…….” Remus’ voice trailed off as he saw the look on Sev’s face.

“I……..I don’t really like to use his magic,” said Sev.

“Why not?”

“My mother hated it. Said a proper wizard would never touch it.”

“I’ll bet Voldemort never even heard of it.”

“I don’t believe he has,” said Sev.

“It might save you in a pinch.”

Sev looked at Remus a long moment. Slowly he rose and started pulling on his clothes.

“Dad had these friends that would come round,” said Sev as he dressed. “They were religious, you know they wore dark suits and skullcaps. They spoke Yiddish. There’s an old synagogue in London that they all went to. My dad too. He never took me there, my mother wouldn’t allow it. It’s the only magical synagogue in Britain as far as I know.”

“I’ve been there,” said Remus.

“You have?” said Sev. “Why?”

“Order business. Dumbledore sent me there years ago. He was trying to form alliances, make bridges, gather up all the help he could.”

“Were they helpful?” asked Sev.

“I don’t know,” said Remus. “I know that Dumbledore went and talked to the Rabbi several times.”

“I need that spell, Lupin,” said Sev. “Now.”

“Yes” said Remus. “Of course.” He rose and stood naked in front of Severus in the cold room. Their foreheads touched and Remus murmured the now familiar incantation. Sev felt the crackle of magick in his bones.

Sev looked in Remus’ eyes a long moment. The air felt thick with things unsaid.

“Come back safe,” said Remus, and kissed him on the lips.

“I shall certainly try,” said Severus. He pulled on his cloak and left, shutting the door behind him with a click. Remus heard his soft tread as he descended the stairs.

Remus pulled a blanket off the thoroughly mussed bed and wrapped it around himself. He lit the fire in the cold grate with his wand and sat in the easy chair beside the hearth, the same chair Sev had sat in, staring at him, in those strange early days of his time here. Before they had begun this peculiar affair, that had started as sex, and increasingly, felt like something more.

He knew he would not sleep. He pulled the blanket tighter around him. He stared at the flames, and dozed in the chair until morning.

************  
The next day was cold, clear and windy, the sky a pale, opalescent blue. Remus set himself a strict schedule to quell the anxiety in his gut. He had no way to summon Sev, to check on him, to know what had happened last night. Sev had probably gone back to Hogwarts and was preparing to teach his morning classes. That was the most likely thing, Remus told himself sternly. If things had gone wrong at last night’s meeting, if Sev was dead, or in some cold dungeon at the mercy of Voldemort, there was nothing that he could do anyway.

Draco was hardly a distraction. He drifted down from his room about ten o’clock, ate the eggs and tea Remus prepared for him, and wordlessly, drifted back upstairs. Remus set to giving the kitchen a thorough cleaning, organizing drawers, dusting and polishing every available surface.

He thought of Eileen Snape as he worked. This had been her kitchen, after all. Remus had seen her a few times, at school events, or on the train platform. She was tall and thin, like Sev, with the same dark hair and intense eyes, and Remus seemed to remember a pillbox hat with a fussy little veil, and heels. He remembered how sad she had looked. He wondered what kind of meals she’d prepared for her son in this kitchen, and if there had been any happy times here at all.

The cupboards were pretty much bare. He found salt and pepper, tea, sugar, a box of curry powder. An assortment of unappealing canned goods. He found some dusty looking lentils on a high shelf and set them to soak.

Once the kitchen was cleaned he settled into the library and continued reading the Kabbalistic books of Tobias Snape. It was fascinating magic, very old, ancient really, as old as the Celtic magic he had been raised on, but it had a different flavor. Smokier, denser, more eastern. In a minor key, so to speak. He could see why this magic had appealed to Sev’s Muggle born father.

Remus knew a little Hebrew, from his post graduate studies at the _Institut de Lycanthrope_ in Paris, and his time in Albania. He had been sent abroad repeatedly after the first war; it had been Dumbledore’s’ method of dealing with a promising young academic whose lycanthropy barred him entrance to normal wizarding intellectual circles. At the time he hadn’t minded. Travel had been a welcome distraction from the heartbreak he had been going through then.

He had been planning to go abroad again, when Greyback had captured him.

Now, he just didn’t know. Sirius was dead. Dumbledore was dead. Harry was unreachable, off on some mysterious mission of Dumbledore’s design. He had his unborn child to think of. And then there was Sev. Remus’ feelings for him were a jumble of tenderness, lust and pure terror. He didn’t know if he could stand to care deeply about another person again, and to lose them.

He thought the chances that either of them would survive the next six months were fairly slim.

And yet…..and yet…….Sev had revitalized him somehow, given him some pleasure, some comfort, something to look forward to, something to want. Here he was, cleaning out his damn kitchen, planning meals, worrying.

It felt like life.

It felt like caring about another human being.

It was completely terrifying.

For two hours he made himself stay in the library, translating fragments of text, learning ancient Kabbalistic spells, struggling to understand the complexities of the numerology.

He knew they could use this to protect Severus. It was powerful magic, and was his birthright.

Much as Severus had hated his father, it was his birthright.

When he couldn’t stand it any longer, anxiety tugging at his temples, at his balls, he went out into the garden. The sun was low by then, the branches of the trees were etched against the pale blue sky in sharp relief. There was a frigid breeze blowing from the north. He made his way through the dried weeds in the yard to the abandoned greenhouse.

Inside broken crockery and tools lay scattered about. Dead leaves of many autumns mouldered in corners. Brown weeds rustled in the wind that whistled through the empty panes of glass.

In the southeast corner, there was a patch of dried, dead snargaluffs. Their seed pods were paper thin and translucent, rattling in the wind.

Two hours later, darkness was falling and Remus had used his wand to mend all the broken panes of glass. He had also mended two trays, filled them with earth and planted the seeds from the snargaluff pods. He found a watering can and sprinkled them with water from a rusty tap that, miraculously, still worked. He set a warming charm over the whole affair and headed back to the house.

Draco had eaten the last of the bread and oranges. Remus washed the soil from his hands and set the lentils on to boil. He seasoned it with the salt and pepper and curry powder. He didn’t think it would be very good, but it was all they had. But it didn’t really matter because a few minutes later there was a key in the lock and Sev was there.

Remus was so happy to see him that for a moment it felt as if his heart had stopped. Then he threw his arms around him and kissed him soundly. Sev was kissing him back and laughing and Remus was laughing too, although it felt that he could easily cross the border into tears.

“You're all right,” he breathed at last after several minutes of passionate necking.

“How sweet,” Draco drawled, from the doorway of the kitchen where he leaned, his long, adolescent frame limpid, as if he were made of water.

“Shut up, Draco,” said Sev, through gritted teeth, and kissed Remus once more, on the lips. “I‘ve brought curry.”

The curry smelled divine, the curry was divine, and they were all three of them starving.

They laid it out on the small kitchen table, and Sev shared the last of the firewhiskey with Draco. Once Draco was a bit drunk he was much more affable.

“Sorry Draco,” said Sev. “I’ve brought you to a situation that’s a bit unconventional. Did I mention that Lupin is pregnant?”

Daco did a double take. “Are you the father?” he asked. “The other father, I mean?”

“No,” said Sev. “Unfortunately, not.”

“The Dark Lord would be …. Fascinated,” said Draco.

“Good thing you took that unbreakable vow, then,” said Sev, shortly. ”Lupin, let us retire to the study. We have some essential matters to attend to. Draco, if you would see to the washing up.”

**********

In the study Sev barely had time to lock the door and cast a soundproofing charm before Remus shoved him up against it, hard, and bent his mouth to Sev’s, kissing him possessively, claiming him. “I was _worried_ about you,” he breathed.

“I was worried, too, but it went all right,” murmured Sev between kisses. He pulled Remus close. He wanted him now, but predictably Remus wanted to talk.

“What happened at the meeting?” Remus wanted to know.

“The usual,” said Sev. “It was boring really. He’s furious about Draco escaping, of course.That took up a good bit of the meeting. And he’s increasingly frustrated that he can’t flush out Potter.”

“Harry,” breathed Remus.

“Yes.”

“We should be doing more for him…...to keep him safe.”

Sev snorted. “Good luck with that,” he said.

Remus pulled back and looked at him hard. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

Sev felt the cold wedge come between them. “ _Fuck,_ ” he thought to himself. “ _Of course we’re going to fight about this._ ” He had always known that eventually Potter would come between them.

“Potter does was Potter wants,” said Sev shortly. When Remus started to object he held up a hand to stop him. “I have been his teacher for seven years,” Sev went on. “I know what I am talking about. He has an…...inflated sense of his own abilities, and tends to take matters into his own hands. Albus did nothing to discourage these tendencies, in fact, quite the opposite.”

“You disagreed with Dumbledore?” said Remus, leaning back and away from him, the passion that had been so urgent between them just moments ago, suddenly cooled. _This was what he hated about bloody talking_, thought Sev angrily.

“Yes,” he replied with a sigh. He disentangled himself from Remus and went and sat on the high stool. There at the slanted library table, Remus had laid out the Kabbalistic texts he had been studying. Remus’ neat, tight notes lay in a pile beside the books. Sev started rifling through them in a desultory manner. He suddenly felt very tired. “I disagreed strongly with the way Albus managed the boy. But he never listened to me at all.” Sev struck the table suddenly, angrily, with his fist. Remus’ neat pile of notes went flying around the room, and fluttered to the floor. “Lily’s son,” he said. “Who I had sacrificed everything for. But Albus just encouraged the boy’s worst qualities, convinced him that he was special, that he was the only one who could defeat the Dark Lord, that he had a destiny to fulfill, that he had to do it himself!”

“I like Harry,” said Remus simply, from the door where he still stood.

“Oh he’s likeable enough,” said Sev bitterly. “I’ll give him that. But he’s immature, undisciplined, headstrong, and frankly, not all that bright.”

“That’s a pretty harsh assessment, Sev,” said Remus.

“You have no idea how crucial his mission is!” shot back Sev angrily. “Everything rides on his success! Everything! He has critical information that Albus shared with no one else! And what does he do? Typically, he runs off! Some unreachable place, with his cohort of friends! Teens on holiday! Does he ask for help from his elders, his teachers, skilled and experienced wizards that might actually help him be effectual? No he does not!”

“You haven’t given him much cause to trust you, Sev.”

“All right, “said Sev, “I concede the truth of that. But he confided in no one, not Minerva, not Molly and Arthur, not Kingsley or Nymphadora He just…..left.”

“Maybe if Sirius were still alive….” said Remus hollowly.

“Maybe, “ agreed Sev, “Or maybe if you hadn’t been in a cage in Greyback’s camp. He might have talked to you. I know he liked you. But that is neither here nor there. He is gone. Unreachable.”

“And you don’t share Dumbledore’s faith that he can complete this mission on his own?”

“I do not,” said Sev. He put his head in his hands. Remus stood by the door. The silence lengthened between them. At last Sev looked up. “I’ll tell you one thing though,” said Sev and his voice sounded ragged. “Albus did not intend that Potter survive.”

“What?” Lupin’s voice rang harshly in the quiet room.

“Albus believes that a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul entered Potter on the night Lily and James were killed. He believes that in order for the Dark Lord to truly be finished, Potter must die. And the Dark Lord must be the one to kill him.”

Remus just looked at Sev in horror.

“And I’m the one that has to tell him,” said Sev, his voice cracking. He looked up at Remus. His eyes were dry. His face looked ancient. Remus suddenly saw how careworn he looked. “Lily’s son,” he said brokenly. “The last of her.”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He felt as if a chasm had opened up between them. What was he doing here in this house, sleeping with this…..Death Eater?

Sev just sat there and stared at him as if in supplication. Remus searched for an appropriate response. At last words formed in his mind. “What are you going to do Sev?” he asked hoarsely.

“I…..have to tell him,” said Sev. “Albus…..left specific instructions. If I don’t the plan will fail.”

“How do you know he was right?” said Remus.

“Albus was the most powerful wizard of our generation. He…...planned for everything. This is only a piece of it.”

“That Harry must die.”

“Yes.”

“What if he was wrong?”

“He wasn’t. He can’t have been. If he was, we’re all doomed.”

The silence between them lasted so long that it seemed to stretch out and settle in the corners of the room.

“You never cared about him,” said Remus at last.

“Who? Albus?” said Sev.

“Harry.” said Remus.

“That’s not exactly true,” said Sev, somewhat stiffly. “I’ve stuck my neck out several times to save his, if you will recall.”

“You always resented that he was James’ son.”

Sev looked back at him evenly. “That’s true, “ he admitted. “I….acknowledge that. But I also know he is Lily’s son, and the person she loved above all others. I have committed my life to his safety and protection.”

“And yet, you would let him die.”

“If that is what it takes to defeat the Dark Lord, then yes, I would,” said Sev.

“No,” said Remus.

“No?”

“No,” repeated Remus. “Harry cannot die. There has to be another way.”

He stood in the doorway, and crossed his arms across his chest. He looked immutable, somehow, and strangely powerful, and…..sexy as hell. Sev’s breath hitched, just for a moment. He knew he couldn’t bear to lose him. Not now.

“Remus,” said Sev, and he knew it was the use of his first name, more than anything, that swayed the werewolf to listen to him. “Come with me.”

“What?…. Where are we going?” asked Remus, taken aback.

“To Hogwarts,” said Sev. “You need to hear this directly from Albus.”

“Sev, Albus is dead.”

“His portrait. In his office. My office. I’m headmaster now.”

“Oh,” said Remus, understanding dawning.

Sev got up from the stool he was sitting on and took Remus by the hand. He unlocked the door with his wand, went over to the cold hearth in the sitting room. The house was silent. Draco must have gone to bed. He pointed his wand to the fireplace and flames burned bright. He cast a pinch of floo powder into the fire and it turned from orange to green. Still holding Remus tightly by the hand, he led him into the flames. “Hogwarts,” he said, in a clear, loud voice.


	11. The Portrait of Albus Dumbledore

They landed on the stone hearth in Sev’s quarters, the old potion master quarters, where he still slept. Remus landed behind him and staggered out of the fireplace, shaking himself, touching his belly lightly, anxiously, with his fingers.

“All right?” asked Sev, sharply. He hadn’t thought about the baby. He turned to Remus and started brushing him off roughly

“Fine, I think,“ said Remus, looking around. “Where are we?”

“My rooms,” said Sev.

“Aren’t you headmaster now?” asked Remus.

“I am. But I…….kept my old rooms. I…...can’t bear to sleep in Dumbledore’s bed. And this is a secure floo connection to Spinner’s End. It’s not connected to the rest of the network. I set it up years ago. It’s heavily warded.”

He took Remus’ hand and pressed it against a stone set into the mantel of the old stone fireplace “ _Concedo,_ ” Sev murmured, and Remus felt the stone glow hot for a moment. “Fifth stone from the right,” said Sev. You’ll have to set your hand on it. It should let you through, now.”

Sev rummaged in a cupboard and pulled out a neatly folded cloak of a grey, translucent, gossamer material. He shook it out and it shimmered. “You’ll have to wear this,” said Sev.

“James’ cloak,” said Remus, in surprise. “How did you get….?

“No,” said Sev. “Not Potter’s, and unfortunately, not as good as that one. But this should get us through the halls to my office. It was Alastor’s.”

“Moody’s,” said Remus.

“Yes, said Sev. “Put it on and stay right behind me.” He went to a drawer and rummaged for a minute. He took out a tiny brass key, then went to an empty spot on the wall and tapped it with his wand. A small brass door appeared. Sev opened it with the key, and took from the hidden vault within a second key, a heavy, old fashioned one, made of iron.

“If things go wrong,” Sev told Remus, “get away as fast as you can and take the floo back to Spinner's End. If you can’t do that, get out of Hogwarts and apparate to the alley behind the house. The wards should recognize you. This key,” he said, pressing it into Remus’ hand, “opens both the door to these rooms and the back door at Spinner’s End. Don’t lose it, whatever you do. You have your wand?”

Remus nodded and put the key into his pocket, and tapped it with his wand. “ _Objecto praepedio_ ,” he said. He put the cloak over his head, and disappeared from view. Sev headed for the door.

“Stay close,” he murmured. “Oh, and one more thing. There’s a trace on the Dark Lord’s name. If you say it outside the wards at Spinner’s End, the Death Eaters will be on us in minutes.”

Under the cloak, Remus nodded, then remembering that Sev couldn’t see him, said, “Got it,” in a tense whisper.

********

Outside Sev’s room the castle was sleeping, the corridors dark, laced with stripes of silvery light that came in the windows from the waning moon. Remus followed close in Sev’s wake as he strode purposefully to the headmaster’s office. He noted the change in Sev at once, the haughty set to his head, the arrogance in his stride, the threat, implicit, in his demeanor. The person he had grown to know during their weeks together at Spinner’s End, the haunted, desperately lonely, passionate man with the sly sense of humor had evaporated. Severus in this persona was truly terrifying.

The only person they met in the dark corridors was Filch, who Severus acknowledged with a nod as he cowered in a doorway and let them pass. And if the hairs on Mrs. Norris’ back stood up as she caught the scent of the werewolf passing by, Filch was too busy bowing in obsequious terror to notice.

“ _Acid pops_ ,” Sev muttered at the gargoyles standing guard and they parted to reveal the magical escalator to the headmaster’s office.

Inside, Sev triple locked the door and said “ _Clostrum ostium,_ ” sealing it magically. He was casting _Muffliato_ as Remus removed the cloak and reappeared before him.

Albus Dumbledore’s portrait surveyed Sev and Remus from the wall with keen interest. The new painting was the only real change in the room. The round chamber was suffused with a clear pleasant light, as it always had been, for as long as Remus could remember. The silver instruments Dumbledore had collected over the years shone and tinkled softly to themselves. In the hearth, a perpetual fire burned brightly. An adolescent Fawkes perched quietly in his cage, his head under his wing. The portraits of all the previous Hogwarts headmasters snoozed in their frames. An aura of peace and contentment prevailed.

“Remus,” said Dumbledore’s portrait, smiling down at him from the frame with perhaps an excess of twinkle in his eyes. “I am so glad that your rescue from Greyback was a success.”

“Yes,” said Remus, suddenly shy. He had a familiar feeling, the sense he’d had since he was a boy, that Dumbledore could see right through him.

“I do believe congratulations are in order. How are you holding up?”

“You told him?” asked Remus, rounding on Sev. “You told him I was pregnant?”

Sev shrugged and looked down at the ground. “I wanted his advice,” he said, coloring.

“Great,” said Remus, wondering what else Sev had shared with their old headmaster.

“Coming along alright, then?” asked Dumbledore kindly.

“Sure,” said Remus, feeling embarrassed. “Fine. Corking.”

Dumbledore just smiled at him. Remus was sure he was fooling nobody, least of all the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, who seemed as sharp as ever in death.

“Albus,” said Sev quietly.

Dumbledore looked over at Sev searchingly. “Why did you bring Remus here, Severus?” he asked. “Hogwarts can’t be a safe place for him right now. You’ve taken quite a risk.”

“It concerns Potter,” said Sev

“What about Harry? “ asked Dumbledore, sharply, and for a moment, he looked frightened.

“I want you to tell Lupin,” said Sev, “What you told me.”

“And what is that?” asked Dumbledore.

“About how Potter must die.”

“Oh,” said Dumbledore. He looked older suddenly, the twinkle gone from his eye. He looked so uncomfortable, that for a moment, Remus wondered if he was going to walk out of the side of his portrait and leave them. Dumbledore leaned against the grey wall of the room he was painted in. He went over to a small table and picked up a carved dragon that was sitting on it. He stared at it intently for a few moments, then sat down tailor style on the oriental carpet that was in the foreground of his painting. It had the effect that he was eye to eye with the two men who stood before him, waiting expectantly.

“You told him the basic theory behind my plan?” Dumbledore said at last, not looking at Remus at all.

“Yes,” said Sev.

In the portrait, Dumbledore shut his eyes. “I have no reason to think that anything has changed,” he said, sounding more weary than Remus had ever heard him in real life. “In order for Voldemort to be finished off, I do believe that the fragment of his soul that resides within Harry must be killed, and that the only way to accomplish this is that Voldemort, himself, must kill Harry.”

The room was dead quiet. The fire hissed softly. The magical instruments tinkled. Fawkes stirred a moment on his perch, then went still.

“No,” said Remus, at last, as he had at Spinner’s End.

Dumbledore opened his eyes and looked at Remus. “Remus, I know this is upsetting. I have struggled to come to terms with it myself. If I thought that there was any other way…….”

“There has to be,” said Remus.

“I have thought long and hard about this,” said Dumbledore, gently. “I do not believe that there is any alternative.”

“We’ll find it,” said Remus stubbornly. “We’ll work it out. You’ll help me, won’t you?” he asked, turning to Sev. His dangerous voice. Sev could see the grim determination his face. He was starting to wonder how Dumbledore was going to stand up under the onslaught of an angry Remus Lupin. He gave him the briefest of nods.

Remus turned back to the portrait on the wall. “Now tell us,” he said.

“What do you wish to know?”

“Where you sent Harry, and what he has to do. What is this task you set for him?”

“He needs to do it himself,” said Dumbledore.

“He needs help and support from the adults in his life who care about him,” retorted Remus.

“I’m sorry, “ said Dumbledore, “But much as you would like it, I cannot tell you.”

“That’s not good enough,” said Remus. “We need information, dammit!” For a moment Sev was afraid he was going to hit the portrait.

“I have never thought it was wise to share that information with anyone but Harry,” said Dumbledore.

“Well then you thought wrong,” snarled Remus.

“He needs to work it out for himself.”

“He’s a boy, just come of age. And you have placed him in mortal peril!”

“I believe that he is up to the task!”

“And what happens after he accomplishes this mysterious and difficult task? You plan to reward him by having Severus tell him that he must face That Bastard and die!”

Dumbledore steepled his hands and placed them against his face. Remus stared at him for a long moment. When he spoke again, the anger was gone from his tone. His dangerous voice, low, even, quiet, was back.

“Dumbledore,” said Remus. “James and Lily are dead. Sirius is dead. You are dead. I am the only one left alive to look out for Harry. Not for the role Harry has to play, in this grand magical battle you are waging from beyond the grave, but for Harry himself. I have no doubt that your plan was brilliant. But from my point of view it is completely unacceptable. I will actively fight against any plan where Harry must die. So if you do not want me using my considerable abilities to bung up whatever wheels you have set in motion, I suggest that you share with us the details of your plan, so that we can come up with an alternative.”

His words rang in the quiet office. Dumbledore sat on the floor with his fingers steepled against his forehead for so long that Sev wondered if maybe he had fallen asleep.

“Albus,” said Remus. His voice had become gentle. “You are gone from this earth. We are still alive. It’s up to us now, to carry on the fight. Please tell us what you know.”

Dumbledore looked up, and there were tears in his eyes. “Very well,” he conceded. “ Severus, if you would leave us a few moments….”

“No,” said Remus. He flung an arm around Sev’s shoulders and they stood there, a bit awkwardly, in front of the portrait. “We’re in this together.” Sev felt the color rising in his cheeks. There was a flash of understanding in the portrait’s piercing blue eyes. “Whatever you tell me I’m going to tell Sev anyway,” Remus said. “So he may as well stay.”

Dumbledore nodded at them once, and with a sigh of resignation, told them what he knew of Voldemort, and his horcruxes, and his quest for the deathly hallows, especially, the Elder Wand.


	12. Lemon Bubbles

Their journey back through the dark corridors of the castle was interrupted only once, by Alecto Carrow, who greeted Sev with deference and gave him an update on the latest offenders among the students and their punishments. Remus, lurking in a shadow under the invisibility cloak was again struck by how different Sev was in this setting, and how terrifying. Severus listened to Alecto with a scornful, haughty demeanor and somehow managed to insert an air of menace into his short answers to her questions. At last he ended the conversation.

“It sounds as if everything is in order, Alecto,” said Sev. “You have done well. It is late.”

“Good night, headmaster,” simpered Alecto, beaming at his praise. Her voice had a harsh raspy quality. She coughed a smoker’s cough.

“Oh, and Alecto, one more thing,” said Sev. “I have received word that Dolores Umbridge will be here for an inspection Monday next. She continues to take a strong interest in Hogwarts and the students here. We shall have to make sure to put our best foot forward for her visit.”

“Yes, of course headmaster,” said Alecto.

“Extra punishments may have to be arranged.”

“I will see to it,” said Alecto.

“Goodnight to you, then,” said Sev. He turned down the dimly lit corridor with a swish of his robes. Remus flattened himself against the wall, and caught a whiff of Alecto, of cigarettes and stale sweat, as she passed by him in the dark.

************

Once back in Sev’s chambers, with the door locked, silenced and magically sealed, they fell into each other’s arms, laughing with relief.

“You……..were……..brilliant!” declared Sev, between kisses. He was grinning broadly, which gave his face an altogether different look from the usual somber scowl he wore. Remus found it so adorable he couldn’t stop kissing him back.

“What about you?” Remus said. “You are…….. A great actor! I never realized it before! You should be in the theater!”

“Hmph,” said Sev. “I suppose that would fit in with recent developments in my life.”

“No, you really were good! That air of menace, that implied threat. How do you do it?”

“I’ve had years to perfect it, “ said Sev dismissively. “You on the other hand, displayed a deviousness I never would have thought was possible. It was like watching a chess master. I’ve been trying to get that information out of him for months! Years, even! You played him like a violin!”

Remus just grinned back at him, then looked around.

Sev’s chambers at Hogwarts were cleaner and nicer than his house at Spinner’s End, and it was clear at once that this was really his home. The shabby, unused feel that suffused everything at Spinner's End was absent here. They were in a small sitting room, which led to a bedroom with a high, comfortable looking bed and a bathroom off to the side. The furniture was newer, better made. Sev’s best books were here, and his clothing. There was a desk in the corner, with neatly arranged stacks of papers. The light from several wall sconces and lamps was warm and inviting. The dark wood floorboards were waxed to a warm sheen. There was a green oriental carpet on the floor. The fire burned bright in the well swept hearth. Everything had a well cared for, comfortable feeling.

Sev bent to kiss Remus again, this time with more passion, his mouth open, his tongue, moving hungrily into Remus’. Remus pulled him close, grabbing his arse, locking their hips together. Their hard cocks bumped together and the two men ground into each other, gasping with the pleasure of it.

“Can we fuck here?” asked Remus, looking about.

“I want to,” Sev panted “But it’s taking a risk. The tub is rather good,” he added. “I had it redone a few years ago.”

“Let’s take a bath then,” said Remus, grinning saucily and leading him into the bathroom. And of course, Sev found, he was powerless to resist him.

********

The bathtub was very nice. It was deep enough so they could stand in it, kissing, while the water poured out of four different taps and jetted and foamed around them, up to their waists. Lemon scented bubbles spilled out of a brass spigot, suffusing the room with a sweet citrusy aroma. Between the hot water and the bubbles and Remus there, right there, working his skin with his mouth, nibbling each nipple delicately with his teeth, his tongue lapping hungrily around his navel, it was all a little overstimulating, and Sev was worried that he wasn’t going to last long. Indeed, by the time Remus’ hands were slicking his cock with soap, and rolling a condom onto him, Sev was so excited he was afraid, for a moment, that he might disappoint. But he took a deep breath and gathered himself. Remus lifted his hips and pulled him close, whispering, “I want you in me when I come,” and Remus must have been nearly as close as he was because once Sev entered him it was rough and fast and unstoppably good. They came together sobbing in each other’s arms, Sev’s only regret that it was over too soon.

 **********

Remus woke a few hours later in Sev’s high, soft bed. Sev was shaking him by the shoulder, gently.

“Lupin,” he said, “Wake up. You’ve got to go. The house elves come in to clean and lay the fire before dawn.”

“All right,” said Remus, yawning. He opened his eyes and brushed the long hair back from Severus’ temple and kissed it, right where the pulse was. They’d left the bathroom light on and a shaft of it fell across them, illuminating Sev’s face. “You’re beautiful, you know,” Remus said, smiling up at him.

“That,” said Severus, bending down and kissing him on the eyelid, “is a post shagging sentiment if ever I have heard one.” His hair came down like a curtain, shielding them from the light. “You’re….confused.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, clearly. Your mind is clouded …...or something. In a…..post-coital haze.” Sev kissed him on the nose, then worked his way over and started on his ear. ”However, for what it is worth, you also, look beautiful to me at this moment.”

Remus smiled at him, “You smell good too.”

“That’s just the bubble bath.”

“Your bathroom is very gay,” said Remus.

“Mmmm,” conceded Sev. “Maybe.”

“No maybe about it.”

“Be that as it may, we have more important things to think about right now than my sexual orientation.”

“Such as?”

“Horcruxes,” said Sev. “Hallows. The Elder Wand. What are we going to do?”

“Oh,” said Remus. “Right.” He stretched and got out of bed and started dressing, while Sev watched him from under the covers. It was the opposite of their usual arrangement.

“What do you know, Sev?” asked Remus as he pulled on his clothes. “Do you know anything about Horcruxes?”

“Some,” said Sev cautiously. “I’ve…...done some reading.”

“Has he said anything? Vol…….You know who? He talks to you. Has he ever mentioned it?”

“Never,” said Sev.

“We need to do some research. Look for an angle. Come up with a new plan.” said Remus. He seemed energized by the task ahead as he put on his shoes and reached to the bedside table to retrieve his wand. “I’ll go through the library at Spinner’s End. I’ve seen some books on the Dark Arts in there. You look in the restricted section here. I know there’s something on horcruxes in there somewhere. I remember seeing it years ago. What….?” he said, pausing, seeing the look on Sev’s face.

“I just don’t know if we can do it, Lupin,” he said. “Come up with an.....alternate solution. Dumbledore was brilliant, a genius, the greatest wizard of his age. He had it all figured out. He had a plan.”

“Well it was a shitty plan,” said Remus. “Any plan where the seventeen year old has to die is rubbish in my book. We can do better.”

“I…...I’ve never gone against him. He….he trusted me, to carry it out.”

“Sev,” said Remus, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his hand. “I loved Lily and James. And I know you loved Lily. We’re the only ones left. We owe it to their memory to protect their son.”

He rose and kissed Sev on the top of his head. “See you later,” he said and Sev heard him go out into the sitting room and leave by the floo.

***********

After Remus left Sev lay in bed, unable to get back to sleep. The events of the night had unnerved him. He missed Remus, damn it! He hated feeling dependent on another human being, but he knew he’d sleep better if Remus was still beside him. At last he got up, pulled on his dressing gown and went into the bathroom to piss.

There was a full length mirror on the back of the door. Sev caught his reflection and stared at it, hard. He looked the same, he thought, although everything had changed. Do I look gay? he wondered. Is this what a gay man looks like? He grimaced at himself. Could people tell? He tried to stand more gayly, swaying his hips back a bit, leaning forward. He bent his hand at the wrist in a stereotypical gesture. “Darling,” he lisped at his reflection, making his voice go high and soft. “Oh, my.” He felt completely daft, and straightened up to his normal stance. “You’re acting like a teenager,” he admonished himself.

He studied his reflection in the mirror. His face was pale, his eyes large and dark, his black hair hung to his shoulders. The same face in the glass as always. He pulled at the tie of his dressing gown and let it fall to the floor. It landed with a soft swoosh of fabric. All around him the sleeping castle was dead quiet. Severus studied his body intensely, his thin chest, almost angular at the sternum, small pale nipples, flat abdomen. Black hair, against the white skin on his chest and in a line down his stomach. His cock hung below, flaccid and sated. He had been scrawny in his youth, but he didn’t think he looked too bad right now. Remus had called him beautiful.

He knew he couldn’t put off Remus’s questions about his sexual identity for ever. If he was honest with himself, he knew he had always looked at men, and found them sexy. By the time he had been old enough to understand what some of those feelings really meant he had already taken the mark. In Voldemort’s army there was zero tolerance for being gay. Acting on his feelings had never felt worth the risk. And he had truly been in love with Lily. He supposed it had been safer to cling to that lost love, all these years.......than…….well, than this.

It was a seismic shift. The yearning, the wanting, the worry. The passion. Remus made him horny in a way he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager. Needing another person. It was a terrible idea for a man in his position, a catastrophe. But it was already too late. The life he had lived before Remus looked incredibly flat and unappealing. Risky as it was, he had no desire at all to go back. He felt as if he was driving at top speed toward a cliff, and he didn’t even care.

After years and years of a carefully metered existence where hiding his true thoughts and feelings was a matter of survival, that recklessness felt incredibly good. It was, in fact, addictive.

It was dawn. Grey light was filtering through the windows, and light flakes of snow were falling from the sky. Sev gave up on the idea of any more sleep and dressed for the day. He slipped silently through the dimly lit halls of the castle to the library, where he spent an hour in the restricted section before breakfast, searching for information on horcruxes.


	13. Research

Living with Draco at Spinner’s End was a little like living with a ghost, Remus decided over the next few days. He kept to his room, emerging for meals, though he ate little. He obviously felt uncomfortable in Remus’ presence, but, given his upbringing, that made sense. The prejudices against werewolves ran deep, especially among the old families.

Sev did not appear for several days. Remus tried his hardest not to let it bother him. It was after all, his usual pattern. Remus had had a lot of relationships over the years that hadn’t worked out. He wondered how long this strange, passionate affair with Sev would last. Given the complexities of their intertwined past, their conflicting alliances…..well, anything long term seemed unlikely. He wasn’t going to be able to stand it if Sev stood by while any harm came to Harry. And Remus had as much as told Sev that he was still in love with Sirius.

Sirius who had been dead now, for over a year.

Sirius, who had turned to Remus one dark, moonless night in the astronomy tower, with a gruff “C’mere Moony,” and pulled him into a kiss that had rocked his world forever. Sirius who had changed from the passionate lover of his youth to the bitter, broken, escaped prisoner who Remus had tried desperately to heal. Sirius who had miraculously returned to him, against all odds. No one in the intervening years had come close. And now he was gone. Gone for good.

Now Remus was rattling around this dusty, lonely house with Draco Malfoy ghosting around upstairs. Now there was the baby, growing inside him, compelling him to think about some kind of future. Now there was Severus and the worry in the pit of his stomach that was with him day and night; the worry that the dangerous game Sev had been playing all these years was up, that Voldemort would realize that he was a double agent, that he would wind up imprisoned or killed. For all Remus knew it had already happened. There was no way for him to find out. Now there was this twisting, bubbling sensation in his chest that felt dangerously, stupidly, close to love. A love neither of them could afford.

He kept tamping it back down, and it kept bubbling back up.

Now there was Harry and the danger he was in, the cruel fate that had been arranged for him by Albus Dumbledore. Now he knew about horcruxes and hallows and it was Remus’ job to find a way out of the dark maze the Dumbledore had built. To find a way that Voldemort could be destroyed and that Harry could live.

In the days that followed, Remus had to admit to himself that it was not going to be easy. He read and read and took copious notes. There was a wealth of material in the library at Spinner’s End. He found a tattered copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and read it from cover to cover. He dove into yellowed, dusty tomes on the dark arts, books with titles like _Spelles Most Wicked_ or _Magick's Darkest Secrets._ He learned a lot about horcruxes, but was no closer to figuring out what objects Voldemort would have used to store fragments of his soul, or where to find them. He was no closer to figuring out how to destroy the fragment of Voldemort’s shattered soul that had lodged itself inside Harry.

When he couldn’t read any more, he cleaned or went out to the greenhouse and tended the snargaluff seeds he had planted. He found some ancient looking seeds for hellebore and dragon’s snare. He filled more trays with earth and planted more seedlings. He had a vague idea he could earn some money growing potion ingredients. It was a pathetic plan, he realized, but he had a baby on the way and no money and no real prospects. It was the best he could come up with.

Food was getting to be a problem. Three times a day he put together some kind of meal for himself and Draco from the meagre collection of canned goods on the shelf, and the diminishing supply of rice in the cannister. Draco ate the uninspired meals without comment, did the washing up, and ghosted back upstairs to his bedroom. By the third night they ate the last of the rice with a tin of yams, and Remus was contemplating putting on a glamour and heading out into the Muggle world to scrounge for food. It wouldn’t be the first time in his life he had resorted to dumpster diving to survive. It had been a grey, lowering day and when he looked out the window he saw that it had started to snow.

Sev’s key in the back door sounded like a symphony, and then he was in the kitchen, burdened down with carrier bags of food, flakes of snow clinging to his cloak and his black hair, smelling of the cold fresh December night. Remus’ heart was leaping in his chest and Sev’s arms were around him and his mouth was warm and hungry. They called Draco back downstairs for a second supper of sausages and eggs and salad, then sequestered themselves in the library and compared notes on the reading they had been doing. Sev had several books on the dark arts that had valuable information. Remus had been doing some research on Kabbalistic magic and had some protective spells that he insisted Sev try out.

At last they climbed the stairs to bed. Once in their room, they fell on each other as if they were famished. They ended up fucking against the closed door, half dressed, their trousers pooling at their feet. Afterwards they pulled off the rest of their clothes, staggered into the bed and twined around each other.

“I was worried about you,” said Remus, sleepily, kissing Sev’s eyes. “I fretted.”

“I fretted too,” confessed Sev. “I just....I couldn’t get away.” He was so relieved to be back, to have Remus in his arms, fed and warm and sated. Nothing mattered, really, but this. Nothing at all.

He was already drifting off when Remus spoke. “Sev…..I….”

Sev looked at him through half closed lids. “What is it?” he asked.

“Oh…...nothing ….I….”

Something was clearly bothering him. Sev shook himself awake. “Spit it out Lupin. We’ve no time for games,” he said, trying to bite back his irritation.

“It’s….well….I’ve no funds for food. I can’t pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Sev at once. He felt relieved that Remus’ problem was something so easily managed.

 “I…….I want to,” said Remus. “I started some snargaluff seedlings in the greenhouse.I thought maybe I could sell the pods, but……… it’ll be a while.”

“I’m not concerned,” said Sev. “We have bigger problems than paying for groceries.” He thought for a few minutes, while he held Remus tight in his arms. He kissed the top of his head. “I’ll leave you some cash,” he said. “If you need anything, you can put a glamour on Draco and send him out for supplies.”

His eyes were closing, his body unwound from orgasm, Remus close and warm against him. Outside, snow was falling quietly. The storm was picking up. It gave him a sense of safety, as if the soft snow offered them an extra layer of protection, and nothing bad could reach them through it. Which, of course, was completely ridiculous. If anything, they were in more danger now than ever.

“I’ll pay you back some day,” said Remus

“I’m sure you will.”

“Christmas is coming,” said Remus, sleepily.

“Mmm," said Sev, drifting off. “It’ll be all right, Lupin.”

 

************

  
Remus woke to Sev’s lips on his, his body pressing in.

“I have to go, Lupin.”

The grey light of morning in the room, snow blowing against the window - the sound of hard little crystals, hitting the glass.

Remus was kissing back, half awake. “You were so hot last night,” he murmured into Sev’s hair.

Sev responded by deepening the kiss, grabbing him around the hips.

“It just keeps getting better,” moaned Remus.

“I want you all.....the fucking.....time,” Sev responded.

“I thought you had to go.”

“I do.”

Remus grabbed Sev’s arse and squeezed and kneaded. Sev gasped and pulled him closer. “You can do me,” he whispered in Remus’ ear.

“What?”

“You heard me,” said Sev.

Remus raised his head and gave Sev a long, appraising look. “No,” said Remus. "I don't think so. No"

“No?” said Sev.

“Not now.”

“Why not?”

“Not enough time, for one. And I want to make sure you are good and ready.”

“Fuck you, Lupin.”

“No, no love. I am going to fuck _you._ I am going to fuck your eyeballs out. When the time comes.” Remus kissed Sev on the lips, just a light brush, and shoved him off.

“Lupin you…...you’re teasing me,” Sev sputtered.

“Just a bit,” said Remus with a sly grin. “It’s good for you, I think. Now go teach your classes.”

And there was nothing Sev could do. He really was going to be late. He got up. He raked his hand through his tangled hair, pulled on his robes and his cloak, and headed to Hogwarts to start his day.


	14. Fourth Moon With Christmas Tree

The next few weeks were relatively peaceful. Remus cooked. He cleaned. He spent a lot of time in the library. He tried to draw Draco out, to no avail. He was obviously miserable, but not miserable enough to overcome his distrust of Remus. Sev came when he felt he could get away, and he and Remus spent hours sequestered in the library, comparing notes. Sev spent time talking to Draco, and brought him textbooks and set him to studying. “He may as well prep for NEWTs,” Sev said to Remus. “He’s bright enough to do well, if he ever gets a chance to prove himself.”

One snowy afternoon Remus put a glamour on Draco and sent him out for ingredients to make fruitcake. He cut an evergreen bush from the weedy overgrowth in the back yard. It only came to his waist but he set it up on a side table in the sitting room. He rummaged in the attic until he found a dusty box marked “Xmas” in faded black marker. In it were regular Muggle christmas lights, tinsel and glass balls.

Remus was just starting to decorate the tree when Draco got in from shopping. Remus heard him putting away the food in the kitchen, then he came and stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the sitting room and leaned against the frame. He stood with his arms folded watching Remus as he strung the lights around the tree.

“Pathetic,” he drawled after watching for a few minutes.

Remus touched the tree with his wand and the electric lights blinked on, their colors giving the tree a homey glow. He started hanging the glass balls.

“Well, it _is_ small,” he said thoughtfully. “But cheery, I think. Anyway, not bad for wartime and being in hiding. I hope Sev will be pleased. Do you think he will?” he asked. He hung another glass ball and started to drape the tree with tinsel.

“I’ve no idea,” said Draco. He leaned, if it were possible, more aggressively against the door frame.

“Neither do I, honestly,” said Remus. “I don’t even really know if he likes Christmas. Will you help me start the fruitcakes?”

“No,” said Draco, and detached himself from the door frame and ghosted back up to his room.

Remus watched him go and sighed.

 

********

The full moon was due the Saturday before Christmas and Sev had a lot on his mind. He made an appearance in the Great Hall at breakfast - he was trying to show his face at as many meals as possible to cover up for being away so much, although, in fact, he much preferred to eat in his room. The Great Hall was loud with the pent up energy of students preparing to leave for the holidays. A Yule Ball was planned for the evening, and most of the students were leaving for home the following day.

He went back to his rooms, where the Wolfsbane potion bubbled on a tripod set over a blue flame. He had to add the wolfsbane flowers, and stir clockwise seventeen times. He watched with satisfaction as the potion turned from a murky brown to a deep violet blue. He had three hours before adding the final ingredient and another stirring.

He went to a locked cupboard against the wall and took out another flask containing a muddy grey potion and a vial with a single human hair inside. He tucked these deep into his cloak. He checked his wand and his money bag. Locking the door behind him, he left the castle and headed for the apparition point outside the grounds.

 

*********

  
Severus apparated to an underground station near Diagon Alley. In the smelly public loo, he used the polyjuice potion to change into his elderly Aunt Pepper. She rarely left home nowadays, and he knew that he would not run into her here. He transfigured his robes into a more feminine version in bottle green, and put on a floppy hat he had pinched from Aunt Pepper’s sister, Aunt Spider, years ago.

His two frail, elderly aunts lived together in a spindly wooden house, perched on a cliff looking out over the sea. He was due there for Christmas breakfast. Well, he needed some gifts for them, and he also wanted some things for Remus, the type of things Severus Snape could not be seen purchasing, not without raising suspicion.

Diagon Alley was a changed place. Although Christmas was only a few days away, the usual bustle of holiday shoppers was noticeably absent. Cartoonish posters of Potter hung in every shop window, with the words _**Undesirable Number One**_ stamped in large, official looking letters across his chest. In these posters he looked both menacing and foolish, brandishing his wand, eyebrows furrowed, glasses hanging off his nose in a manner that made him appear deranged. The lightning scar across his forehead was painted in a garish, ugly red.

There were posters of Remus as well, although the half man, half wolf that was depicted in them wasn’t even close to his likeness. They’d got the hair color right, mused Sev, that’s just about it. The eyes glowed red and menacing, so different from their real warm, amber brown, that Sev smiled to himself a little as he passed by. _ **Dangerous Werewolf at Large** _ the posters screamed in jagged black letters. _**Remus Lupin!!! Reward!!!**_

A few red and green lights twinkled half heartedly from the storefronts that remained open. Florian Fortescue’s was shuttered, as was Madame Malkin’s. The scattering of shoppers on the street hurried through the grey slush, heads down, as if they did not wish to be seen. There were beggars in doorways. A crude wooden stall had been set up on the corner in front of Eeylops owl emporium, and was doing a brisk trade in amulets against the evil eye, inferi and dementors.

Sev felt a chill, and two dementors did, in fact, drift by, followed by Yaxley. He ducked into Flourish and Blotts, heart pounding in his chest, to begin his shopping.

“Ah, Madame Pepper,” said the clerk, recognizing him. “How lovely to see you out and about. How may I be of service?”

***********

He returned to his rooms a few hours later in time to add the tincture of silver to the Wolfsbane potion and stir widdershins a dozen times. He laid out his purchases on the table beside the bubbling potion, now turned opalescent green and giving off a not unpleasant aroma of burnt chocolate and sage. For his elderly aunts he’d got candied pineapple, chocolate covered ginger, a bottle of the sherry he knew they fancied and couldn’t really afford, warm mittens and bobble hats. He had an assortment of items he had selected for Remus. He hoped he’d be pleased.

Severus stowed the whole lot in a dresser drawer, while the potion bubbled on the trivet over the flame. Almost done. He packed away the healing potion he’d prepared days ago, a new bottle of firewhiskey, his notes from the research he’d been doing on horcruxes. He touched the inside of his right upper arm where a new tattoo had magically appeared. He stood before the mirror, and practiced the animagus charm a few more times, transforming back and forth into his animal self. He wanted to make sure he had it right. At last the potion gave a small sigh and stopped bubbling. Sev poured it into a blue glass flask, and screwed the lid down tight. For extra measure he sealed it magically, touching it with his wand and murmuring _“Nolo efflugium_.” He double checked the door to make sure it was was locked, and took the floo to Spinner’s End.

 

**********

 

Sev arrived in the parlor fireplace, wolfsbane potion in hand. For the first time his eyes fell on the small tree Remus had made. It was a cloudy afternoon. In the pearly grey light coming in through the half drawn curtains, the little tree shone luminously. The multi colored bulbs shimmered and reflected off the glass balls and the tinsel. Remus had draped the branches of the tree with strings of popcorn and paper chains.

Sev picked his way through the hushed house, to the upstairs bedroom where Remus lay shivering under the blankets. He raised his head when he heard the door open. Severus moved quickly across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. Remus looked at him from very far away, squinting, as if he were trying to recognize him.

“I’ve your potion right here,” Sev said, unscrewing the lid and handing him the flask. A wisp of steam rose from the pale opalescent green liquid within. Remus looked down into it and a shudder ran through him.

“Drink it, Lupin,” said Sev, and when Remus made no move to take the flask from him he drew his head close and held the flask to his lips.

Remus shook himself and took the flask from Sev. He screwed up his face and took a long swallow, then shuddered. He closed his eyes, waiting for it to start working. Sev bent and kissed his pale lips.

Remus gave a sharp intake of breath and opened his eyes. “Don’t,” he whispered. “I’m not safe.”

“You’re not a wolf yet,” breathed Sev, kissing his ear, then tonguing it.

“I feel him in me, though,” Remus moaned, his eyes half closed. “He’s coming.”

Sev took the hand that held the flask, and brought it to Remus’ lips. He made him take another sip of the potion. The sagey, burnt chocolate smell was filling the room. Remus swallowed loudly.

“Better?” Sev asked and kissed him again. His cheek rasped against the rough stubble of Remus’ chin, and his breath hitched.

Remus nodded, his eyes closed. Sev slipped his arm around Remus, under the covers and his nostrils flared as he caught the the musky animal scent rising from him. Every muscle in the werewolf’s body was tight, as if about to spring. Merlin, Sev wanted him.

Groaning, Remus kissed back. Sev felt Remus move beneath the blankets, sensed his yearning, deep and wild. Remus kissed Sev’s neck and then bit, hard, hard enough so that a little shiver of pain ran down Sev’s spine and twisted his gut. Remus’ other hand snaked around, and freed Sev’s long, black hair from the tie in the back, so it fell like a curtain around them, and Sev felt Remus shift his hips, pivoting to face him, belly to belly, hard cock to hard cock. Remus finished the wolfsbane potion in a few business like swallows. He set the flask on the floor, then used both hands to undo Sev’s belt and flies. He slid down Sev’s pants and trousers in a fluid motion, the fabric moving deliciously over his erection. Then Remus’ mouth was on his cock, and Sev was gasping, the desire welling in him so strongly he couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but respond to the pleasure in his loins. Remus’ fingers were working his arse, probing, stroking, in a way that made Sev shudder with yearning and want.

“Do me,” he cried out hoarsely, desperately. “Remus! Do me! I want you!”

Remus took his mouth off of Sev’s cock, and looked up at him with a grin that was truly wolfish.

“No,” he breathed out heavily, the sound thick with desire. “I want to,” he said “Believe me, I want to. But not now. Not today. You’re going to have to wait a little longer.”

“Please,” Sev panted. “Remus, please.”

“Oh,” said Remus, the wolfish grin broadening. “I like it when you say please.”

Then Remus was tearing at his own clothes, growling with frustration as he fumbled with a condom, ripping the wrapper and putting it on Sev. He lubed Sev, front and back, and then straddled him and pushed himself onto his cock, gasping, riding him hard and fast. Remus’ hands scrabbled at Sev’s back, the nails digging in. His cheek was sandpaper against Sev’s and then his teeth were nipping at Sev’s neck, biting hard, the pain just intensifying his pleasure. Sev put a hand on Remus’ cock and Remus took his own hand and moved it back toward Sev’s arse, probing the sensitive places around the opening and then shoving a finger in, right inside him. Sev was lost in the pleasure of it, completely undone, coming hard, shouting as he felt Remus shudder and cry out and slump against him.

Sev held himself inside Remus as long as he could. At last, they slid apart. Remus looked up at Sev, brushed his long hair back from his forehead and touched the bruised place on his neck with a finger.

“Was I too rough?” he asked. “I can get…. a little wild, before the moon.”

“No,” said Sev, nuzzling into his shoulder, breathing in the tangy, sweaty smell of him. Remus’ finger on the sore spot gave him a shudder of pleasure, like an echo. He liked the sense of having been marked. “You weren’t too rough. Just…...hot as hell.”

Remus’ finger traveled over his shoulder and traced the new tattoo on the inside of Sev’s upper arm. “The animagus charm worked then?” he murmurred. The tattoo was a crude outline, like something done by an adolescent on a dare, or a prisoner.

“Yes,” said Sev. He took a hand, and brushed it over Remus’ belly, where the baby bump was growing noticeably bigger. “How’s baby?” he whispered, pushing the flat tips of his fingers against the firm womb, sensing the life pulsing there.

“Good, for now,” said Remus. “I hope….. he’s okay……. after the moon.”

“I also…….hope that,” said Sev. He was reluctant to take his hand away, somehow.

“We’d best get going, though,” said Remus glancing at the window, where the grey afternoon light was fading fast.

“Yes,” Sev agreed. “We’d better.”

************

They apparated to a cave high in the mountains beyond Hogsmead, where the wilderness was deep and the woods thick and undisturbed by road or human activity. It was clear and very cold when they arrived at the entrance to the cave, a north wind rattling the bare branches of the trees, the last glow of the sunset fading from the western sky. Remus made Sev go and stand in a little sheltered hollow a distance away, until the moon was up.

“Don’t approach me in human form,” Remus warned, and disappeared into the cave.

Sev stood among the trees shivering, watching the eastern sky turn pearly from the moon just below the horizon, and listened for the howl of the wolf. He touched the tattoo on his arm. He was pleased with how his animagus had turned out. He had been afraid it would be a bat, or a spider, or, Salazar forbid, a rat, like Pettigrew.

The moon was over the rim of the earth now, and rising fast. The light was reflecting off the white snow, etching out black shadows among the trees. Sev thought of Remus, moaning and panting against him, just an hour before, his deep amber eyes, boring into him. He thought of the brave little Christmas tree that Remus had conjured somehow, from nothing, shimmering in the parlor back at Spinner’s End. He thought of the smooth firmness of the womb, under his fingertips, and the promise it held. He heard the howl of the wolf from deep within the cave, and knew, in that instant, that he was in love. In love with Remus Lupin. Only love could have brought him to this strange juncture. He took a deep breath, and a panther, his coat black and gleaming in the moonlight, stood among the trees beneath the huge silvery orb.

At the entrance to the cave, the wolf appeared. When he saw the panther standing in the copse of trees, he gave a growl of recognition and leapt toward him. The two animals met, paws batting, jaws snapping playfully and rolled together in the soft snow, testing their muscles against each other and finding them evenly matched. Then they were up, the panther chasing the wolf through the sharply striped shadows of the frosty moonlit trees.


	15. Christmas Eve

On Christmas Eve Remus took the dried fruits and nuts that he had soaked in brandy and mixed up a fruitcake. He sent Draco out for supplies and put a chicken, potatoes and sprouts in the oven to roast, seasoning them with salt and pepper and a tin of apricots he’d found on a back shelf. He mixed up a punch of fruit juice and soda water, found some Muggle Christmas music on the ancient radio in the kitchen, and settled in the parlor beside the fire and the glowing tree.

He stared at the flames, feeling strangely content. The baby had survived the moon, the womb a smooth reassuring bump beneath his fingertips. Sev had told him he planned to arrive late at Spinner’s End for Christmas Eve, after the traditional staff gathering in the headmaster’s office. Remus was looking forward to seeing him, and sharing with him the celebration he had made for them. He’d had lonelier and much sadder Christmases, he mused, as he sat, sipping his non-alcoholic punch. Draco entered the room and sat quietly on the sofa.

“Punch?” Remus offered.

Draco shook his head, and kept looking into the fire.

“Not much of a Christmas for you,” Remus remarked.

“No,” replied Draco, hoarsely. His voice sounded creaky, unused. “Not much.” They both stared at the flames.

“I never cared much for Christmas,” Draco said, into the silence. “Never much saw the point of it. It’s just…..my mum…..”

“She’ll be missing you,” said Remus gently. “Worrying over you.”

Draco nodded glumly. “I hate it that she doesn’t know…….that I made a choice. That I’m okay.”

“It might be dangerous if she knew,” said Remus gently. “Voldemort looks routinely into the minds of his followers.”

“Snape knows,” said Draco.

“Sev is a gifted occlumens. Most people can’t ……..protect their mind the way that he can.”

“Lucky for you,” remarked Draco.

“Yes it is.”

“And for me too, I suppose,” Draco added grudgingly.

“Yes,” agreed Remus.

“I did make a choice, you know,” said Draco. There was a sudden fierceness in his usually languid voice. “I left because I hate him, not because I was afraid.”

“I figured as much," said Remus quietly.

“You…...you did?”

“I can tell you’re no coward, Draco,” said Remus.

The fire crackled. In the kitchen, the radio switched to a new song.

“I’ll have some of that punch, I guess,“ Draco said off handedly.

“It’s just in the kitchen,” Remus replied. Draco got up to get himself a glass.

He returned , glass in hand and sat back down on the sofa.

“There’s an old deck of exploding snap cards in the cupboard,” said Remus. “If you’d care to play.”

********

When Sev arrived at Spinner’s End the kitchen smelled delightfully of the chicken, roasting in the oven and the freshly baked fruitcakes. The radio was playing a Muggle Christmas tune somewhat tinnily. From where he stood he could see into the parlour, where the little tree was twinkling bravely and he heard the soft slap of cards hitting the table.

The radio must have covered the sound of his entrance. Sev stowed his bag of gifts in an empty cupboard and stood in the darkened kitchen, taking it all in. He heard Remus and Draco’s voices, soft and indistinct, in the parlour. How had he arrived here? he wondered. His life had been filled with darkness and loneliness, a loneliness that had become so habitual he had ceased to notice it. In the midst of war and Muggle killings and dementors on the streets, and fear, every moment of discovery and death, of pain and failure, how had he arrived in this kitchen, on Christmas Eve, fragrant with the smell of good things to eat, with a tree shining in the next room, and Remus, peacefully playing cards with Draco, waiting for him to arrive?

He got down the firewhiskey and three glasses. He walked into the parlour and kissed Remus swiftly and surely, before he had a chance to think better of it. He poured a round for the three of them, insisting that Remus take a small shot, in spite of the baby. And it was just as he was raising a glass to Remus and Draco, wondering what he could possibly say that was appropriate to the occasion, to the jumble of hope and fear that was pulsing in his heart, that he felt the mark burn on his arm.

He dropped his glass and clutched his forearm. The glass shattered with a ping, the whiskey staining the threadbare carpet beneath his feet. Remus looked up at him, his face suddenly pale. Sev could tell he knew at once what had happened.

“It’s not his usual time,” Sev whispered, still clutching his arm. “Something’s happened.” He shook himself. The tinny music from the radio in the kitchen suddenly sounded harsh, menacing. “I must go,” he said. “The spell, Lupin.”

Remus rose and went to him quickly. “Use the other one,” he said.

“The Kabbalah?”

“Yes. I’ll say it with you, if you like.”

Sev nodded. They stood together and chanted the Hebrew, and Sev felt the the spell take hold. Like smoke in his bones. He felt denser, heavier, his mind surer. He nodded at Remus. “It’s going to work,” he said. “Keep your wand at hand. I’ll return as soon as I can.” He kissed him, full on, trying to say the things he could not say, that he might never get to say, with that kiss. He grabbed his cloak and left, through the kitchen door and into the dark night.

*********

Severus apparated to a dilapidated building on the edge of a small picturesque town. The snow lay thick about him. He must be somewhere up north. In the distance he heard church bells tolling - midnight mass. He heard a snatch of drunken singing, laughter muffled as it traveled over the snow. Christmas revelers, going home from the pub. Sev recognized where he was. This was Godric’s Hollow, the last place Lily had lived, and the place where she had met her death.

He heard a pop and Bellatrix apparated beside him. She stood tall, her black hair streaming behind her, her wand stretched out, ready for the battle. “Snape,” she hissed in greeting, her dislike obvious. Sev knew she was angry that she had not been the first to arrive. He smiled back at her with grim satisfaction.

A moment later Lucius apparated beside her, with Narcissa clinging to his arm. Narcissa’s face was white, terrified. Severus knew she was afraid that this sudden summoning meant that Draco had been captured. Then Pettigrew appeared, and then the air around them fairly exploded, as the rest of Voldemort’s inner circle appeared with a series of pops. Most people looked as if they had been torn reluctantly from their cozy beds or warm firesides. Dolohov surveyed the gathering through half lidded eyes. Yaxley’s hood was askew and he stank of stale whiskey. Alecto was rubbing her eyes sleepily. There was a murmur of confused whispering. Sev stepped up onto the front stoop, and raised his hand. The murmuring fell away. He opened the door, and led the way inside.

It stank, like a dead body. The hall was cluttered with an assortment of junk - old clothes and papers, coated in a thick layer of dust. To his left was a small sitting room, equally cluttered and dusty, lit eerily by several sputtering candles in old saucers. He glanced in, but it was empty. There were fresh prints in the dust on the stairs that faced the front door. Sev led the way up, the assembled Death Eaters falling into line behind him.

Upstairs the filthy cluttered bedroom stank, even more strongly than the downstairs had, of a corpse. The Dark Lord stood, his red eyes glowing triumphantly, over the inert forms of two people. Nagini circled around the bodies, her scales making a rasping sound over the broken glass which covered the floor. Sev saw the dark hair, the long gawky limbs of an adolescent who has recently reached his full height. The glasses, bent and askew on the downturned face. Potter! The Dark Lord had Potter! And beside him, bushy hair wild around her pale inert face lay Granger, her hand clutching Potter’s arm. Sev watched the faint rise and fall of her chest, then Potter moaned and stirred slightly. Not dead yet, then. Probably just stunned.

“I have him!” Voldemort cried triumphantly. “Harry Potter!” In his hand he held two wands, one of them broken beyond repair. He handed them both to Sev. “The phoenix feather wand,” he whispered hoarsely. “Guard it well!” Sev could sense the excitement rolling off him. Good. He tended to get sloppy, when he was this close to his goals. Sev put the two wands deep in his cloak.

He heard Narcissa gasp behind him as she ascended into the room and saw Harry and Hermione lying there. “It’s Potter!” she whispered, turning to Lucius in obvious relief. He clutched her hand, and they melted together into the back of the group, as the rest of the Death Eaters ascended.

“Bind them!” Voldemort commanded. Sev pointed his wand and said “ _Incarcerous_ ,” softly. Silver chains appeared, snaking around the two prisoners and holding them fast. Bellatrix was right beside him, and pointed her own wand, but the spell was done and she stood there, furious, that Sev had got to it first.

Voldemort was pacing up and down, trembling with excitement, the broken glass on the floor crunching beneath his feet.”Potter!” he exclaimed, over and over, “We’ve got Potter.”

Sev’s mind was moving fast. Voldemort was supposed to kill Potter, but not yet. Not until all the horcruxes had been destroyed. And not until he and Remus had ruled out every other possible alternative.

“He is going to die tonight!” exclaimed Voldemort joyfully. “But first….. My loyal followers, we shall have a little fun. Oh no, he shan’t just go out like a candle. I want him to know, know that the Dark Lord cannot be opposed! I cannot be defeated!” he shouted and his eyes flared, for a moment, an even brighter, more fiery red. “Not by anyone!” He laughed a cruel, high pitched, triumphant laugh.

Sev felt the new Kabbalistic magic in him, dense, heavy and intense. He had never experienced anything quite like it. He felt it searching downwards, like roots toward the earth, seeking the source of it’s power there.

He saw, in his mind’s eye the candles sputtering in their saucers downstairs, in the filthy parlor. The stench of the corpse filled his nostrils. He imagined the flames rising. Pictures came to his mind, unbidden. He saw a heretic burned at the stake. He saw the the ovens of Auschwitz, the greasy smoke of burned human flesh rising from the chimneys. He felt an ancient anger flare in his bones. He saw a golem. He and Remus had been reading about golems only a few nights before.

He knew he could use those flickering candles to his advantage.

 _“Innervate_!” Voldemort shouted, pointing his wand. Harry and Hermione startled awake. Sev saw them both reach instinctively for their wands, which had been taken from them. He saw understanding dawn. Harry looked at Voldemort, then at Hermione, then back to Voldemort. He reached for Hermione’s hand and grasped it.

Then Harry saw Sev. He shot him a look of pure hatred.

It was easy to return the look, though probably a tactical error. “ _I’m here to rescue you, you little shit,"_  Sev thought to himself. Hermione was glowering at him as well, equal parts fear and fury in her expression. “ _Don’t do anything stupid, you two,_ ” Sev willed silently.

“Harry Potter,” Voldemort’s excited voice rang out in the small room. “And his mudblood girlfriend.” Voldemort started pacing in front of the broken window, where the cold December air was blowing in. Strangely, it was not enough to dispel the rotten odor, which lingered. “So like his father, who also had the poor judgement to marry a mudblood. An unfortunate family pattern, but one that ends here, tonight.” He laughed that high, mirthless laugh again, and several of his followers joined in nervously.

“ _They sense how off balance he is tonight,”_ Sev thought “ _Off balance and…….dangerous_.” He thought of the little Christmas tree, shining in the parlour at Spinner’s End. He thought of Remus, of his hands, his mouth, his face clenched tight with pleasure. Of the baby, the firm promise of new life growing within him. “ _I have to get out of here alive,”_ Sev thought fiercely. _“I have to get back to them.”_

“James Potter,” said Voldemort thoughtfully. “He could have been a great man among us. He was from a very old and respected family line. The same for that friend of his, that Sirius Black. But they refused me, stupidly. And where are they now? Dead! The two of them! Fools that they were!”

“That was me!!” said Bellatrix eagerly, shoving Sev aside roughly to stand next to Voldemort! “I killed Black!”

“Yes Bellatrix,” said Voldemort softly, his voice slowing to the condescending tone he always used with her. “That was well done. One of your finer moments, to be sure.”

“I live only to serve you, Master,” Bellatrix murmurred, her dark face flushing darker at his praise.

“How would you like a chance to dispose of……. the mudblood?”

Bellatrix licked her lips. ”Just let me at her!” she said, her voice gone husky with yearning, to please her Voldemort. “Just let me at her, Master, and I shall do you proud.”

Sev spoke, his voice harsh and imperious. “My Lord, they must be questioned before they are killed. They were pets of Dumbledore. They were in contact with the Order of the Phoenix! They may have valuable information that we can extract.” With another part of his mind, he was coalescing the dense new magic he felt in his blood. He could taste smoke in the back of his throat. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, and saw the flames flickering on the inside of his eyelids. He fanned those sputtering candle flames in his mind. They leapt. A curtain caught, the fire inching up the stained and dirty fabric.

Voldemort turned his attention to Sev. ”Yes, Severus, you are correct, as usual.” Sev gave him a brief nod, acknowledging the praise. “How do you propose we go about it?”

“Legilimency, My Lord,” he replied. “I can read their minds.”

“Then we are dependent on believing what Snape reports,” Bellatrix objected, with scorn in her voice. “Master, let me torture it out of them.” She raised her wand, pointed it at Hermione and shouted “ _Crucio!“_

Hermione screamed. Her back went rigid. Her nails, clutching at Harry's hand, dug into the flesh and drew blood.

“Now, little girl,” said Bellatrix, lowering her wand, and talking to Hermione in fake, simpering tones. “Tell us what you know. Where are your friends in the Order hiding out? What task have they set you? What are their plans against us?“ Hermione responded by clamping her lips shut tight, and turning her head, away from Bellatrix into Harry’s shoulder. She shook with silent sobs. Harry put an arm protectively around her, and glared at Bellatrix.

“Leave her alone!” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Or will you tell me, Chosen One?” Bellatrix asked, that fake simper still in her voice, her eyes glittering maniacally. “It would spare your little girlfriend a great deal of pain.”

Downstairs, Sev saw that the curtain was burning properly now. The heat caused an updraft, pulling a fluttering piece of paper toward a second candle flame. It caught fire and drifted onto the sofa, where it smoked for a long moment, then burst into flame.

“We’ll never talk,” said Harry in a low whisper. “Torture us all you want! It doesn’t matter.”

“Fine with me, Chosen One,” whispered Bellatrix menacingly, and raised her wand once again.

“I’m sure Bellatrix is enjoying herself, Master,” said Severus, his tone controlled, his voice cool. Downstairs, the flames were leaping higher, feeding on the clutter of books and papers. The taste of smoke was thicker in his throat. In a few minutes the smoke would start to come up the stairs and someone would smell it. “But surely veritaserum would be more efficient and less…..messy.”

Bellatrix looked at him with hatred. “Have you some in your back pocket then, Severus?” she asked sarcastically.

He looked back at her with scorn. Downstairs the flames were coalescing now, forming a mass in the center of the room, consuming the furniture hungrily. “I do not, Bellatrix,” he said. “But there is a vial in my office at Hogwarts. I can easily fetch it.”

“That will not be necessary, Severus,” said Voldemort in a cold voice. ”I can read the boy’s mind myself without difficulty.” He turned his hard, reptilian gaze to Harry and looked him directly in the eye.

Harry closed his eyes. The room fell silent. Severus heard the flames crackling down below, so faintly that only someone who was aware of what was going on down there would notice it. He remembered the miserable failure of his occlumency lessons with Potter last year, and prayed that the boy had retained something of what he had tried to teach him. After a long silence, Voldemort staggered and fell back a step, putting his hand to his forehead.

“Something impedes me!” he cried out, bewildered. “I cannot enter the boy's mind! There is a wall, a blockage……” He started pacing up and down again. Downstairs, a creature was forming, a creature made of fire, with arms and legs of orange flame, and gaping holes for eyes. “Perhaps the twin cores is preventing….. But no…..his wand is broken…..Give it to me,” he said, holding out his pale hand to Sev impatiently, eyes flashing red again.

Obediently Sev reached inside his robes and handed Voldemort the broken wand. Harry gave a gasp of dismay when he saw it. It was a pathetic sight, the wood snapped, the two ends held together by a narrow thread of the phoenix feather core.

“Ha!” said Voldemort, in triumph, rounding on Harry. “It is destroyed, your wand! You no longer have the protection of the twin cores! And you are weak without that! So how…..how can you defy me?” He went over to Harry, and waved the broken wand in front of his face. “Give up your secrets to me, Potter!” he said. “You nearly destroyed me when you were a mere baby, and now you close your mind to me! Me! The greatest legilimens the world has ever known! How do you do it? How Potter?" Voldemort’s eyes went dark “Unless……..he said. “Unless…...No! It is not possible! They are hidden! Hidden far, far away! They are safe. You are only a boy! You could not….”

“I smell smoke,” said Alecto Carrow suddenly.

“Master look out!” screamed Bellatrix, throwing herself in front of Voldemort to shield him from the fireball that came pouring into the room.

There was plenty of fuel. The pile of dirty rags on the bed burst into flames, and the chill breeze from the broken window quickly fanned them. The fire leapt higher, the ragged curtains and piles of books and papers started to burn. It was complete pandemonium, everyone was screaming, cursing, beating the flames that caught on their robes, jumping out the open window, apparating away. Into this chaos Sev’s golem reared up, tall as two men, a fierce creature made of flame. He grabbed Harry and Hermione. The chains that bound them snapped as if made of paper. He rolled with them down the stairs, into the parlor fireplace and away.


	16. Christmas Eve Part Two

The decrepit cottage burned to the ground. The Death Eaters gathered in a tattered group at the edge of the woods. They watched as the Muggle firefighters struggled unsuccessfully to quench the flames that leapt into the starry sky, throwing sparks into the blackness above. Their faces were coated with soot, their clothes singed, their eyes red with smoke. Peter was wailing and holding his hand to his eyes. Alecto was wheezing horribly.

Sev’s hands were singed and reddened from the heat and he could smell the burnt hairs on the back of his arms. His face felt hot and tender, as if he had a very bad sunburn. He could feel the smoke deep in his lungs. He was kneeling with Voldemort in the snow, holding his lit wand aloft while the Dark Lord examined Nagini closely.

The snake had come out of the conflagration the worse for wear. There were several burned places on her scales. She was coiled tightly around them, not allowing Voldemort to examine them properly. As the Dark Lord attempted to gently uncoil her, to get a better look at how badly she was damaged, she hissed at him, but it came out as more of a wheeze.

“Nagini my pet,” Voldemort said in a soft, sibilant tone. It was oddly disconcerting to hear the solicitousness in his voice. “Let me just see, my pet, see how bad it is. There, there, just let me look.” He scratched Nagini’s head and she rubbed against his finger, and allowed him to gently uncoil her, so they could see the areas where the scales were burned and blackened. In spots they almost looked as though they had melted together.

“Do something!” commanded Voldemort, a gruff, desperate note coming into his voice. “Heal her!” Voldemort’s red eyes glowed weirdly in his blackened face. His robes were badly singed. Sev couldn’t tell if he had any actual injuries, all his attention and concern seemed to be for his snake.

Sev had no idea if a normal human healing spell would work on a reptile, but he figured he may as well give it a go. “ _Consanguo!”_ he murmurred, pointing his wand, “ _Reparro! Integro!_ ” The scales looked less black and charred, the melty looking places less damaged. Nagini shuddered and hissed at Sev. Merlin, he hated that fucking snake.

“Not good enough, Severus,” Voldemort hissed, continuing to stroke Nagini’s head. “Nagini….cannot die.”

“My Lord, I have potions, back at my office, tincture of Dittany, a salve for wounds….” He heard Alecto cough, and gasp for breath. Her wheezing was growing louder. “The others are injured as well…..”

“They can go to St. Mungo’s,” said Voldemort sharply.

“Are you sure that would be the best plan master?” said Bellatrix, coming up to join them. She had a gash over one eye that was bleeding heavily.

“I…. why not?” said Voldemort, his attention still on the snake.

“Bellatrix is right, master,” said Sev, as he bent down to get a closer look at Nagini, and was rewarded with another fierce, wheezing hiss. “It would be in our best interest to keep the events of tonight as quiet as possible.”

“We don’t want anyone to know that Potter slipped through our fingers,” said Bellatrix, backing away from the snake.

“Potter!” said Voldemort, spitting the name out like a curse. “How ….how did he…?” Voldemort stood from where he had been crouching in the snow, then staggered, and nearly fell. “I…. I’m not well,” he said, putting a hand to his forehead and swaying slightly. Bellatrix caught him by the arm, eagerly, but he shook her off.

“Severus, go and fetch…….whatever potions you can gather……..” Voldemort rasped. He sounded short of breath, as if he’d gotten a big dose of smoke. “Bellatrix…. take the remainder of the group to Malfoy Manor. Tend to their injuries there as best you can. Nagini and I shall retire to my retreat in Little Hangleton. Severus, you can meet us there with…...the medicines.”

“Master, you are ill! Let me go with you!” Bellatrix cried.

“No Bellatrix, I need you to look after the others. Wormtail shall accompany me to Little Hangleton.” He looked about, confused, as if he expected the small man to be instantly at his side. “Wormtail!” he cried out hoarsely.

Wormtail came slowly, fearfully, through the bushes. He was covered in blood and soot and trembling “M...Master?” he said querulously. Bellatrix stood to the side, looking daggers at him.

“We shall require you to attend to us in Little Hangleton,” said Voldemort sharply. “Nagini and I.”

“Y...yes master,” the little man stuttered, looking less than happy with the new assignment.

“Go then,” said Voldemort looking at Snape. “Fetch what you need, to make Nagini well!” He gathered up the snake, coiled as she was, and held her to him. He sagged slightly with the weight of her and Wormtail put out a hand to support him. This time the Dark Lord did not object.

“Go!” he commanded again, looking at Sev.

“Yes, Master,” said Sev. And with a wave of his wand, he apparated away.

*********

Sev came in through the downstairs floo at Spinner's End in a shower of soot. Remus was in the sitting room, tending to Harry and Hermione who were wrapped in white towels with cloths covering their faces. Draco sat in the rose colored easy chair which had been pulled back, out of the way, surveying the scene. The little Christmas tree shimmered and sparkled in it’s corner.

Sev went to straight to Remus grabbed him and kissed him on both cheeks. And then, because he couldn’t help himself, a quick one, on the lips. “Merlin’s…….bloody ……..balls!” he exclaimed between kisses. “That spell …...was fucking …... brilliant!”

“It worked all right, then?” asked Remus laughing and pushing him off. “Was that really a fire golem you conjured?”

“It was genius! You’re a genius! Children this man is a genius! A genius werewolf!” He stopped when he saw that Harry and Hermione had both uncovered their faces, and were staring at him with utter and complete hatred.

“Murderer!” shouted Harry, starting up. Remus grabbed his shoulder and he sat back down again, wincing in pain.

“You killed Dumbledore!“ cried Hermione, reaching about for her wand, which was not there.

“Yes, well, that’s old news,” replied Sev shortly.

“It’s all right Harry, Hermione,” murmurred Remus. “You’re safe. I can explain.”

“They’re boyfriends,” supplied Draco, unhelpfully, from his corner.

“Shut up, Draco,” said Sev and Remus together.

“They’re all right?” Sev asked Remus. From what he could see Harry and Hermione looked like they had bad sunburns, but were otherwise unharmed.

“First degree burns only,” Remus replied. “I put them in a cool shower.”

“Good,” said Sev.

“You’re burned too,” he said, touching Sev’s red face.

“I’m all right,” Sev replied. “Please don’t fuss now, Lupin. We’ve no time.” He reached into his robes and handed Remus a couple of vials. “Some burn salve, and a sleeping draught,” he said. “That Muggle aspirin upstairs should help with any pain. Try to explain things to them. I’ve got to go tend to Lord Snakey-Face, and his blasted Nagini. I’ll get back as soon as I can.” He kissed Remus, once again, and headed for the back door. “Save me some food,” he added, and he was gone.

 **********

Remus heard the door close. His heart sank, at the thought of Sev going back into danger again, but he looked around the room, at the three teens arrayed around him, and pulled himself together. Harry and Hermione were looking at him with fear and hostility. He had been in this situation with them before. He recalled that night in the Shrieking Shack, more than three years ago now, where he had also betrayed them with a kiss. A kiss to Sirius, his Sirius, who was gone, but he mustn't dwell on that either. He had to find a way to explain things to Harry and Hermione. He searched his mind for a way to start. Draco sat back in the spindly armchair in the corner as if he were enjoying the show.

“Harry,” Remus began

“How could you?” Harry said, his voice cold.

“Professor Lupin….” Hermione said. Her eyes were moist, shining.

“He…….killed…...Dumbledore!” said Harry, straining at every word.

“Yes,” said Remus.

“And what is _he_ doing here?” cried Harry twisting and pointing at Draco, wincing as the towel he was wrapped in chafed at his burned skin. “Have you been one of them all along? A Death Eater?”

“No,” said Remus, looking at him steadily.

“That must be it!” said Hermione.

“No. That is not it,” said Remus. “I am no Death Eater. There is another explanation. You must believe me.”

“There can’t be,” said Harry. “Snape is evil. I saw him kill Dumbledore with my own eyes. Whatever he’s told you, it’s a lie.”

“Severus has never denied killing Dumbledore, Harry,” Remus said.

“Then…….you must be with them,” said Hermione. “How could you, professor?”

“And where’s my wand?” Harry demanded hotly. He sat up, in spite of his obvious pain, and glared at Remus fiercely.

“Snape has our wands,” said Hermione quietly. “I saw Voldemort hand them over.”

“Severus got you out of there tonight,” said Remus quietly. “He conjured the fire golem, and sent you here. This is his house. He has been keeping me safe here for weeks. Draco as well. If it wasn’t for him we’d all be dead now or…...still imprisoned.”

“He killed Dumbledore,” said Harry.

“It was at Dumbledore’s express command,” said Remus. “Dumbledore was dying anyway. You saw his arm, yes?”

Harry looked at Remus warily. “I…..did.”

“Did he ever explain to you how that happened?”

“No…..I….He never did,” Harry admitted.

“Dumbledore was cursed,” said Remus.

“By Snape!” said Harry. “I knew it.”

“Not by Severus, no,” said Remus. “Dumbledore got that curse destroying a horcrux!”

Harry and Hermione both looked at him open mouthed.

“A horcrux?” said Hermione in a very small voice.

“How," said Harry, looking at Remus in surprise, “do you know about horcruxes?”

“Dumbledore told me,” said Remus. “He told me all about them.”

“I thought he only told me,” said Harry.

“That was his original plan, yes,” said Remus. “I was able to persuade him that Severus and I needed to be informed as well. It was…..only recently that we found out.”

“But….how?”

“Well it wasn’t actually him. It was his portrait. In the headmaster's office,” Remus explained.

Harry and Hermione just stared at him.

“Dumbledore asked Severus to kill him. Begged him actually. He knew that the curse could not be contained in his arm for long. He chose a swift ending over a painful and protracted one. And Severus needed to be the one to kill him, so that Draco would be spared that loathesome job.”

Harry and Hermione looked over at Draco, who had turned suddenly pale at the mention of his name.

“What ….is ….he….doing…….here?” Harry asked, again, turning back to Remus.

“Why don’t you ask him?” replied Remus.

Harry and Hermione both stared over at Draco. He shifted uncomfortably, and looked down.

“I ran away,” said Draco, his voice just above a whisper. “Snape brought me here. He’s hiding me. He’s a traitor, to the Dark Lord. I…...am, as well. A traitor.” He studied his hands with interest.

“And you expect me to believe that?” Harry spat out with open hostility. “Why should I trust you, of all people Malfoy?”

“Believe what you want!” said Malfoy shortly, looking up at Harry with a sneer. “I’ve no more reason to trust you than you have to trust me.”

“I saw what you did- what you meant to do - that night in the tower. I was there.”

“No you weren’t!” shot back Draco. “How could you be? Your famous invisibility cloak?”

“Yes, actually,” replied Harry hotly.

“You were awfully quiet then,” sneered Draco. “Why didn’t you do more, to help your precious Dumbledore?”

“I was bound!” said Harry. “Dumbledore put a binding spell on me! I couldn't move!”

“Why would he do that?”

“I…..I don’t know,” Harry confessed.

“Dumbledore bound you,” said Remus, “So that you couldn’t interfere, as he knew you would have, with events as he meant them to unfold.”

Harry and Hermione looked over at Remus, struggling to understand what he was saying. “Do you mean, Professor,” said Hermione into the quiet room, “That Dumbledore meant for Snape to kill him, that night in the tower?”

“That is exactly what I mean,” said Remus. “Voldemort had tasked Draco with killing Dumbledore. If Severus hadn’t moved that night, and murdered his mentor and only friend, Draco would have had to do it. And if Draco had failed in his mission, Voldemort would have killed him.”

Harry looked over at Draco. “And then, what, you ran away?” he said with scorn.

Draco looked as if he had been stricken. “Sod off, Potter,” he said and turned his face to the wall.

The room was quiet. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, questioningly, confused.

“Where’s Ron?” Remus asked into the silent room. “I thought he was traveling with you.”

“He…...left,” said Hermione, in a small voice. “He got…...discouraged.”

They sat there, the four of them, Remus and the three frightened teens. The fire crackled. The chicken in the oven smelled amazing.

“Let’s find you two something to wear,” said Remus rising. He put a hand to his stiff back as he rose, his hips swayed backwards and his belly protruded. He saw Hermione’s eyes flicker over his now noticeable bulge. Oh well.

He tossed the burn salve to her. “Rub that in the burned places,” he said. “It’ll help. I’ll go fetch the Muggle aspirins upstairs. And then we’ll eat. It’s Christmas Eve, after all.”

 **************

Severus apparated to the Ridley estate in Little Hangleton. When he arrived the snow was deep, undisturbed. The garden had grown up and become wild in the past few years, ever since Voldemort had killed that Muggle gardener, Frank. The place was a deserted ruin from the outside, and Voldemort preferred to keep it that way.

Sev ducked under an overgrown vine and through a creaky, rusty gate, hanging off its hinges. The snow crunched under his feet as he strode up the weedy path. The front door stood ajar, the glass in the window shattered.

Sev went through the ruined door into the dark and dusty hall. Upstairs a light was glimmering. A fire in the hearth. He proceeded upstairs to find Voldemort and Wormtail huddled anxiously over Nagini who was spread out to her full length on the hearth rug, her snake eyes half lidded.

 _“Faker,”_ Sev thought.

“My Lord,” he said softly.

“Severus!” Voldemort rounded on him. His eyes were darkened, his nostrils flared. “Have you brought…..?”

“Everything, My Lord,” Sev said. “Burn salve, and Dittany, and a healing potion, and a draught for dreamless sleep.”

“Give them to me!” commanded Voldemort. He would let no one but himself tend to Nagini. He spread the burn cream on gently, lovingly, crooning in soft tones “There, there my pet, Nagini, this will make you well, my sweet. Just let me dab a little more on. There. That’s better now.” Sev had thought to grab a medicine dropper from his workbench, and Voldemort fed the healing potion to Nagini drop by drop, while Sev and Wormtail looked on.

At last Nagini curled up by the fire and seemed more peaceful, and Sev was able to tend to Voldemort’s wounds. The Dark Lord had been closest to the fire, and both his arms had blisters and charred skin. He winced as Sev picked away the dead useless skin, spread the burn cream on thickly and bound the wounds. Sev poured out a double measure of the healing potion and a sleeping draught, and Voldemort allowed Sev to see him into the adjoining room, where he slept in a black curtained bed.

“Potter!” Voldemort hissed, once he was settled in the bed, “How did he escape?…...What was that….creature?” His voice still had a wheeze, from the smoke.

“Some strange protection on that house,” Sev suggested. “Perhaps Dumbledore…..before he died. Perhaps he knew, somehow, that Potter would go there.”

“Perhaps,” said Voldemort.

“We will get Potter my Lord,” said Sev. “You will prevail.”

“Nagini,” Voldemort whispered from the bed. “She should be beside me!”

Obediently, Sev went back out to the sitting room, gathered the coiled snake in his arms and deposited her at the foot of Voldemort’s bed, where she curled like an oversized cat.

“You are….my most loyal….servant,” Voldemort muttered. Sev could tell the sleeping draught was taking hold. “You shall be….rewarded.”

“Thank you, My Lord,” said Sev, retreating as rapidly as he dared. “Good night.”

He closed the door to the room softly. Wormtail was lurking by the fire.

“Snape,” he wheezed softly. “Have a drink with me. It’s Christmas.”

Sev longed to get away, but felt it would look too suspicious to refuse. He nodded and settled by the fire. Wormtail retrieved a dusty looking bottle from under the sofa and two glasses from a side table. Sev accepted the glass he poured, but only pretended to drink. He would be a complete fool to ingest anything from the hand of Wormtail.

The two sat in silence, which suited Sev fine. As soon as was reasonably polite he stood.

“I must get back,” he murmured.

“Go on to your girlfriend, then,” said Wormtail, with a sneer.

Sev looked at him sharply. His wispy hair was combed over his bald spot, his small eyes more red rimmed than usual from the smoke. His nose was sharp, his skin pasty. He had cleaned himself up, though there was a scrape on his cheek and he had what looked like the beginning of a black eye. His silver hand glinted in the firelight.

“Oh, I know you’ve got something going on, Snape,” said Wormtail, looking pleased. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Coming in late for meetings, flush on your cheeks, can’t wait to leave. There’s someone, I can tell that much.”

Sev knew it wouldn’t do any good to deny it.

“Who is she then?” asked Wormtail conspiratorily. “Is she a looker? Anyone I know?” He winked salaciously, with one of his tiny, rodent-like eyes.

Sev drew himself up to his full height. He looked at Wormtail with as much scorn as he could muster. He felt invaded, violated, dirtied, but he must not show it. “Good night Peter,” he said, keeping the heat out of his voice, willing it to go distant and haughty. “You are an irritating little man. Look after the Dark Lord well,” He turned swiftly, his robes swirling around him, and descended down the stairs and out the broken door, leaving Pettigrew staring after him in frustration.

*********

On the dark path outside the house, Sev nearly bumped into Bellatrix, who was moving swiftly, silently. Could she see in the dark? Sev wondered. He did not doubt that Bellatrix would go to any means within her power to magically enhance her natural talent for subterfuge.

“How is the Dark Lord?” she asked at once.

“I have done all I can for him,” Sev responded.

“And you are leaving him now?”

“Yes. He is sleeping.”

“I shall watch by his side,” she said, her eyes glittering in the darkness. “I shall be there if he needs anything.”

“You do that,” said Sev, and hurried on along the path.


	17. Christmas Eve Part Three

Sev apparated to the alley behind Spinner’s End. The lights of the town reflected off the snow, making the normally dark alley strangely bright. He looked about nervously, wondering if the house was being watched. If Wormtail had noticed a change in him, perhaps others had as well. He ducked quickly through the back garden gate and behind the wards.

Remus was at the kitchen table, asleep, his head on his folded arms. The overhead light was bright overhead. A cup of cold tea sat before him. He stirred when he heard Sev come in, raised his head, and his face broke into a smile.

Sev moved quickly until he had Remus’ face between his hands, bending to kiss him, half sitting on his lap, his knee pressing between Remus’ legs, desire and relief flooding through him so strongly he feared he might swoon. Remus was kissing him back with breathy, hard kisses, laughing between them with relief. Sev put his hand to Remus’ belly and pressed in anxiously.

“Baby all right?” he asked.

“Fine,” said Remus.

Sev’s hand drifted lower, to where Remus wore an old pair of Sev’s jeans, below the bump, unbuttoned and tied with string to hold them up.

“I…..I can’t do them up any more,” said Remus, looking suddenly self conscious. “Not the usual way.”

Sev laughed. “We’ll have to get you…. maternity trousers…….or something.”

“Or something, yes,” Remus agreed.

“A big tenty smock,” said Sev.

“No,” said Remus.

“Pink, I think, said Sev. “With ducks.”

“Definitely no,” said Remus.

“Maybe a bow?”

“Stop,” said Remus, swatting at him and laughing. “Hungry?”

“Yes,” said Sev. “I am. I’ve been looking forward to this meal all night. But you’re distracting me from finishing taking off your jeans. It’d hardly be any effort.”

“Not here, “ said Remus. “Harry and Hermione are asleep in the parlour. And you look like you could do with some food.”

“Food first, then sex?”

“All right,” said Remus, smiling at him.

“An interesting arrangement,” said Sev.

“It’s called being in a relationship.”

“Is that was this is?” asked Sev lightly.

But Remus was looking at him seriously, suddenly, not a trace of a smile on his face. “Yes,” he said, and kissed him on the forehead. “That’s what this is.”

Sev found himself looking into those dead serious amber eyes and found he couldn’t look away. He was suddenly aware of his breathing, and saw the rise and fall of Remus’ chest in the quiet room. He felt a tugging at his heart, the familiar combination of hope and fear that had been his daily companions of late. “I like it,” said Sev before he could think better of it. His arms went around Remus and their mouths met in a tender kiss, and then he wasn’t afraid any more. “Let’s eat,” he said.

The meal, in fact, smelled delicious and Sev was starving. When Remus opened the oven the appetizing smell wafted out overpoweringly. He dished up two plates and they both tucked in. “I couldn't eat much before,” Remus told Sev. “I was too worried.”

While they ate, Sev told Remus of all that had happened. “That Kabbalistic sell was amazing,” he said. ”I’ve never felt anything like it. It was smokier, earthier, than normal magic.”  
‘  
“How did you manage to conjure the golem?” Remus wanted to know.

“I don’t know,” confessed Sev. “I just.....followed the magic. Images just came to me. All these old injustices, outrages, and then, he was there, the golem, in my mind. I just….molded him, out of the flames. The magic led me.”

“ _In dire need, save me, infinite spirit”_ said Remus, repeating the translation of the spell they had uttered together earlier that evening. “ _Power of the ancients in my bones, fire in my breath. Righteousness is my strength.”_

 _"Yashar hayah koach."_ Sev recited the ending of the spell softly. “Well, it worked. Thank Merlin and Morgana. How did Potter and Granger do? Did they come to blows with Draco?”

“Nearly,” said Remus. “But not quite. I finally convinced them I’m not a Death Eater, and got them to eat something. You might want to make yourself scarce around them for a while, though. I haven’t really gotten them to trust you yet.”

“That….isn’t necessary Lupin.”

“Well, I think it is. But they’ll need a little more time, unfortunately.”

“Where’s Weasley? Why isn’t he with them?”

“Run off, apparently. They said he got discouraged and left.”

“I see,” said Sev.

He rose, and waved the dishes into the sink with his wand. He grabbed Remus by the hand. “Come to bed,” he said.

“Bath first,” said Remus. “You’re covered in soot.”

“All right,” Sev agreed. ”Bath first.”

***********  
The upstairs bathroom was tiled in the same ugly green as the washroom downstairs, but it was bigger - big enough for an old fashioned claw foot tub at any rate, though it wasn’t exactly spacious. Remus very matter of factly stripped Sev out of his filthy, blackened robes and made him get in the tub. There was a nightlight by the sink that gave a low light that reflected off the green tiles pleasantly, giving the illusion, almost, of being under water.

Remus found an old plastic bucket under the sink. _Could it have been Sev’s as a child?_ he wondered. He used it to sluice warm water over Sev’s head. He shampooed the cinders and grime out of his hair, rinsed his head with the bucket, shampooed and rinsed again. He scrubbed his back, using a flannel to polish his skin until it shone. He let the blackened water out of the tub, refilled it and poured in some shampoo for bubble bath. Then he soaped Sev’s feet and started rubbing them.

“Oh, Lupin,” Sev moaned after a few minutes, “That’s amazing ……….Don’t…….Stop……”

Remus looked up from where he was focussed on working Sev’s right foot , squeezing each toe, kneading hard at the heel, digging his fingers into the arch in a way that sent shivers of pleasure through Severus’ whole body. Sev’s voice had a strangled quality.

“What?” said Remus, looking at him with concern. “Sev, what is it?”

“It’s just….. Don’t stop all right?” That strangled sound to his voice. Remus finished the right foot and started on the left. By the time he was done Sev had tears running down his face.

“Lupin, get in,” Sev said grabbing Remus by the front of his shirt and pulling him towards himself urgently, hungrily.

Remus took Sev’s face between his hands and kissed away the tears “Sev….. I….. what’s going on?”

“I…..I just got…..emotional.” He tugged at Remus’ shirt again. That urgency, that intensity. “Get undressed,” he said. ”Just….get in with me.”

Remus leaned back on his heels and looked at Sev. Sev met his eyes, and they stared at each other for a long moment. “You’re going to make me talk, aren’t you?” Sev said at last.

“Mm hm,” said Remus, smiling at him. He brushed a damp lock of hair off Sev’s forehead.

“It isn’t fair, you know,” said Severus.

“It’s good for you, though," said Remus.

“You’ve got the upper hand.”

“For once,” said Remus. “Talk.”

Sev swallowed and stared at the green bathroom tile. What an ugly color it was, he thought. Remus sat there on his heels waiting patiently. The silence lengthened and stretched. “I just got emotional,” said Sev again. “That’s all.”

“But why?”

“Why? I don’t know why. It’s just…..the Christmas tree, the food, the spell. That was brilliant, using a Kabbalistic spell and it…..it saved me…..us…..I never would have gotten Potter out of there without it. He would have died tonight and it would have all been over. And…...no one’s ever rubbed my feet like that before and…..it just felt really good, and I……..got emotional,” Sev finished, some what lamely.

Remus leaned over to kiss him then. Their lips met and Sev kept trying to pull him down into the water with him.

“Get in,” he hissed.

“Okay,” Remus said. “It’s just that you keep saying things that make me want to fall in love with you.”

“In…….love?”

“Yes.”

“What about Black?”

“Sirius?”

“I thought you were still in love with him.”

There was  a long pause, as the two men looked at each other in the watery light.“I…….I wasn’t thinking about him," said Remus at last.

“Oh,” said Sev, with feeling. “Shit. I blew that.”

“No, it’s all right," said Remus quickly.

“I’m an idiot. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“No, I….maybe he wouldn’t mind.”

“What?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” said Remus thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s just rolling over in his grave, at the thought of the two of us together, but maybe….just maybe, he’s just sitting up there on some cloud some where, looking down at us and laughing his head off.”

“That’s rather a disturbing image, Lupin.”

Remus gave a snort of laughter at that, then said, “I mean, if it was the other way round, if it was me that had died, I wouldn't want him to just….stop living because I wasn’t there. That would be…..almost worse than dying in a way, if the person you loved the most in the world, the person you loved more than yourself…..was destined to live a miserable life because you were gone. I mean, I wouldn't want that for him, and I don’t think he would want it for me either.”

Sev was looking at him, his dark eyes were wide and deep and focussed.

“I don’t want to be in love with a ghost for the rest of my life,” said Remus.

“No,” said Sev. “Neither do I.” And just like that the spectre of Lily was in the room.

“We’re both haunted,” said Remus

“Yes,” said Sev. “I know. Obviously. Maybe that’s why we’re falling for each other. Now get in this tub and let me fuck you all ready.”

And Remus had to admit, if only to himself, that if Sev was falling for him, then he was falling for Sev as well. Much as it was against his better judgement, much as he hated the thought of once again having his heart and happiness in the hands of another person, he was falling for Sev.

He undressed slowly, removing his shirt and vest, the all ready unbuttoned jeans, his boxers, which he wore riding low now, under his belly. He stood naked in the small bathroom, the low light of the night light reflecting off the greenish tiles. The half moon of his belly curved outward, his cock, long and elegant sticking straight out beneath it.

“C’mere Lupin,” said Sev throatily, reaching out to him.

Remus stepped into the tub and straddled Sev but then he was just kissing his face and smiling down at him.

“Why are you smiling at me like that Lupin?”

“I don’t know,” said Remus. “I’m happy. You’re making me happy.”

“You're being foolish. There’s no point in being happy. We most likely aren’t going to survive this war. Either of us.”

“I know that. But I can’t help it. I’m a werewolf with a broken heart. I never expected to feel any kind of happiness again. And…….Oh,” Remus stopped whatever he was about to say and took Sev’s hand and put it on his rounded belly.

“What?” said Sev.

“Wait a minute….There…..Did you feel it?”

But Sev had felt it, the ghost of a limb, kicking out at him through the firm skin of Remus’ belly. It was….the strangest thing.

“The baby!” he whispered and he felt a foolish, happy grin spread over his own features. “He’s…..moving!” He kept his hand on Remus’ bump and the baby kicked again. “Hello baby,” he couldn’t help saying. “Merry Christmas.”

Remus bent to kiss him then, soft and tender, and Sev also felt that sensation of happiness licking at his senses so that every movement either of them made felt infused with it, like some strange wine in his veins, like some strange spell in his bones, as their kisses turned deeper and more sensual, as the heat grew between them, calling them both with it’s power and urgency “It’s like sex, but it’s like more than sex,” thought Sev, with wonder as Remus slicked his hard, hard cock with soap and pushed himself onto it, taking him deeper and deeper inside, and they made love in the warm water in the shadowy greenish light reflected off the ugly tiles of the bathroom.

***********

In the sitting room at Spinner’s End, Harry and Hermione lay, wrapped in bedrolls, in front of the glowing embers of the fire. They listened to the sound of the back door opening and closing, the murmur of voices, the clink of cutlery, the occasional low laugh. At last the two men climbed the stairs, together, and they heard water running in the pipes, but no more voices.

“How…….could he?” Harry said at last.

“What?“ said Hermione.

“Be…….friends…….with Snape?”

“Boyfriends, Draco said.”

Harry rounded on her angrily. “And you believe…. what that…….” Harry struggled for the right words to convey his feelings about Draco, “......evil ferret said?”

Hermione shrugged and looked at the flames.

“You do believe it!” Harry hissed at her angrily.

“It…...kind of seems like it’s true,” she said quietly. “They kissed. They acted like a couple. They went up to bed together just now.”

“How could he go from Sirius to…..Snape?" Harry said. “It’s just…..too weird.”

“It does seem strange,” Hermione agreed. “I think he’s….very lonely.”

“I could never be _that  _lonely,” said Harry fervently. “At least Sirius knew enough to…..hate Snape. Lupin must have been one of them…..all along.”

“What?”

 “A Death Eater.”

“No,” said Hermione firmly. “He can’t be. We know him! He was your father’s friend! Sirius loved him! He can’t have been!”

“Sirius has been wrong about people before,” said Harry. “He trusted Wormtail and look what happened then!”

“But we know Professor Lupin!” Hermione insisted. “We know that he’s good!”

“I don’t know what to believe any more, Hermione! Do you?” said Harry angrily. “Ron up and left us! Dumbledore gave us all these vague instructions and clues, but no real information! Look where that’s got us! I don’t even know how we got out of there alive tonight! And now there’s all these terrible rumours about him!”

“Those are just rumors!” said Hermione.

“Maybe”, said Harry. “Maybe not.”

“I don’t believe them,” said Hermione, staunchly.

“And then we find Lupin here, holed up with….Malfoy….and…….and Snape!” The outrage Harry felt about this arrangement came through in his voice. “How can we know he hasn’t been a Death Eater all along? You know that Lupin’s reputation has been called into question before! At the time my parents were killed a lot of people thought he was a spy! Well, maybe they were right! Maybe we’ve been fools to trust him!”

“Maybe,” said Hermione slowly.“But what if Professor Lupin was telling the truth?”

“The truth about what?”

“That Snape and Dumbledore were always working together. That Snape had to kill Dumbledore, that he asked him to do it!”

“I don’t believe it!”

“Someone got us out of there tonight,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “Away from Voldemort. He was going to kill us. Someone conjured that fire golem and told it to bring us here.”

“To Snape’s house.”

“Yes.”

“The question is,” said Harry. “Are we really any better off?”

They both stared into the embers. “I wish Ron was here,” said Harry.

“Me too,” said Hermione.


	18. Presents

Sev woke at mid morning on Christmas day, naked, with Remus, also naked, asleep in his arms. It was, he thought a satisfactory state of affairs. The bed was a warm cocoon in the cold room. Remus’ long eyelashes lay against his cheek, which had a faint spray of freckles. His hair was starting to grow out, a soft brown, laced with silver. Sev put his hand to Remus’ belly but the baby was quiet now. He remembered that ghost-like watery movement from last night and he felt a strange shiver in his gut.

 _The baby wasn't his_ , he reminded himself sternly, as Remus shifted and sighed and, eyes still closed, turned to kiss him. _It had nothing to do with him, not really_.

They kissed lazily, luxuriating in the warmth and the feel of each other’s skin, until the crinkle of paper caught Remus’ attention. There at the foot of the bed were several wrapped parcels, which Sev had summoned after Remus had gone to sleep.

“Presents?” said Remus in surprise and delight, and he suddenly seemed very young.

And then Sev found he could not look Remus in the eye. What if he didn’t like the gifts? He hadn’t bought presents for anyone, except Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider in years. He scowled and looked at the ground.

It wasn’t much really. A book of baby names ( _Name That Baby! The Moste Authoritative, Moste Complete Guide to Naming Your Child in the Wizarding World - And You’d Best Buy This Booke Or Your Kid Could End Up With a Really Stupid Name In Which Case Don’t Blame Us)_. Some dragonhide gloves and a bottle of Madame Marigold's Magical Plant Food for the greenhouse. A foam green sweater in a soft velour that was loose fitting enough to hide the bump, and brought out the green flecks in Remus’ eyes. Remus was immensely pleased. He put on the sweater and the gloves and then Sev found himself pushed over onto his back with Remus on top of him, kissing the scowl away.

“But I haven’t got anything for you,” said Remus sadly after a few minutes of kissing.

“ _There’s the baby,”_ thought Sev, instantly, to himself, but it seemed presumptive to say that. Remus had never indicated to Sev that sharing the baby was part of his plans. “ _You turned my sad, lonely house into a home,_ ” he thought, but that sounded too corny, and too close to his own turbulent, untrustworthy emotions.

“You made us a tree,” he said, instead. “You made us fruitcakes and a Christmas dinner.”

“Were you pleased by all that?” asked Remus. “I was hoping you would be.”

“I was,” said Sev, and held him close.

“There’s one thing I could give you,” said Remus, looking thoughtful.

“You don’t need to give me anything, Lupin,” said Sev.

“It’s something you’ve been asking for,” said Remus, a smile playing on his lips. He snaked his hand around to stroke Sev’s bum, lightly, teasingly, seductively.

“Oh,” said Sev, understanding dawning. “I….yes….I…...okay,” he felt flustered suddenly, and nervous. He felt the heat in his cheeks. “My Aunts, though….Christmas breakfast….I’m all ready late.”

“Tonight then,” said Remus. “If you ask nicely.”

 ***********

Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider lived on an island off the Cornish coast. To get there, Sev had to apparate to the shore, where there was a small rowboat hidden in a cave below a cliff. Sev usually enjoyed the boat trip across the water, though the sea was rough today and the salt spray was very cold. About halfway to the island it started to snow. By the time he saw the house, tall and spindly, clinging to a cliff at an improbable angle over the sea, it’s warm lights glowing through the gloom of the day, his hands on the oars were numb and he was more than ready to get into the warm.

His aunts were very old. They had been sisters to his grandmother Prince so they were technically his great aunts, but Sev had called them Aunt all his life. They had always been kind to him, unlike his grandmother, who had made a habit of referring to him disdainfully, right in front of him as “the half-blood” (as in “Have the half blood wash his hands before dinner,” or “Would the half blood like some more peas?”). Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider, on the other hand, had called him Sevvy, since he was a little boy, and had always treated him well. He had breakfast with them every Christmas day.

He’d brought Lily here a few times. She’d liked the two old ladies, spoken to them with lively interest, as was her way. He’d come to them when she had died, and spoken to them brokenly about it. He thought they’d understood his loss, the depth of it, though they hadn’t ever mentioned it again. They had certainly never pestered him, as his parents had, to find a nice girl, to settle down and marry.

He wondered vaguely, as he raised his hand to knock on the front door, what they’d think of Remus.

Aunt Spider was very tall and wispy thin, with long hands and startling blue eyes. She had been a beauty in her day. Aunt Pepper was short and quite stout. She had a cap of grey curls, sharp black eyes and a no-nonsense manner. Both had had tragic, vaguely hinted at, love lives. They had lived in Paris, together, for many years, and run a hair salon, _La Maison de la Magie_. It had been a very popular spot. Aunt Spider had done the hair, Aunt Pepper the nails. They had retired here, to this small windswept island, with the seabirds and the wild goats for company, and the endlessly changing colors of the ocean.

Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider were delighted with his gifts, and they served him a proper old lady meal of crumpets with currant jam, and butter and cucumber sandwiches, and butter and tongue sandwiches and bread and butter sandwiches. They drank the sherry Sev had brought, and all three of them got a bit more drunk than was exactly proper, but it was Christmas, after all.

Sev felt a strange sense of contentment as he sat with his aunts, at their small table overlooking the sea as it churned on the rocks below them. They chatted comfortably, then he stood and stretched and walked over to the window and looked out at the view. It was a study in grey, the grey sea stretching out to blend with the grey sky above, blue grey waves crashing relentlessly on the dark grey rocks of the shore. Aunt Spider stood and started clearing up. Aunt Pepper walked over to him and refilled his glass with the sherry.

“You seem happy Sevvy,” Aunt Pepper observed, also looking out over the water.

“Yes…..well….“ said Sev.

“You’ve met someone haven’t you?” she asked.

“I…. well….” he said, self conscious. " _How can she tell?"_  he thought in a bit of a panic.

“Boy or girl?” she asked at once, and Sev felt himself flushing deeply. He had no idea how to respond.

“Boy, then,” she said, looking at him steadily. “I lost my heart to a girl you know.”

“No, said Sev, startled. “I…….I didn’t know.”

“Well, it was all a very long time ago,” she said, and he saw the trace of sadness in her eyes.

“You loved her,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Did you ever find, any……... happiness with her?”

“For a short time, yes,” she said quietly.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t be afraid of love, Sevvy,” she said. She leaned back and shook herself as if shaking off the past. She looked him over critically and said,  “If you’re dating a new man, you should really think about letting Spider give you a proper haircut.”

This topic came up every Christmas, and Sev always said no. He’d always worn his hair long, since he was a boy. He didn’t know what made him change his mind today. He supposed it was this stupid happiness and hope, that kept pushing up inside him. And he had a vague idea that Remus might like it. And perhaps it would distract his aunts from any further discussion of his love life.

“All right,” he said

*********  
Christmas breakfast with the aunts lasted until after two, then he’d made his way to Hogwarts to collect more healing potions, then to Malfoy Manor to treat the injured Death Eaters sheltering there. Alecto’s lungs were in a bad way, she should really be at St. Mungo’s. After Malfoy Manor he had to go on to Little Hangleton, where he spent almost two hours with Voldemort as he raged about the escape of Potter and the general cowardice of his Death Eaters in the face of the fire golem.

By the time Sev got back to Spinner’s End darkness was falling. He entered quietly through the back door. Once again the Christmas music was playing, once again the tree glowed bright, but the feeling in the house was different. He heard the murmur of voices, rising and falling. Remus sounded earnest and persuasive, Potter still angry and doubtful. Hermione sounded close to tears. He poured himself a large whiskey - a double as they used to say in the Muggle TV shows he had watched as a child. He felt very much like the father in one of those shows, suddenly, come to bluster and blunder his way into some sort of family harmony.

He entered the parlour and a profound silence greeted his entry. He was surprised to see Draco sulking in the armchair in the corner. _Defending his turf,_ thought Sev. _Good for him_. Remus looked up and grinned broadly when he saw the haircut. Sev felt a shiver of pleasure at the look. He raised a glass to the assembled. He really had no idea what to say.

Potter was glaring at him with, what? Not the total hatred he had approached him with last night. Something slightly less hostile. Remus must have at least raised a shadow of a doubt in his mind. How many years had they glared at each other across a sea of animosity? How many times had he looked into those green eyes, Lily’s eyes, and felt his heart breaking all over again? How many times had he looked at that black hair, those glasses, and seen the visage of the man he had hated, the man who had teased and tormented him and then stolen the woman he loved? He felt a familiar, wrenching confusion in his heart.

Remus raised a crooked eyebrow to him and said gently, “Sev, who cut your hair?”

He rose from where he sat by the fire, swaying a little, the baby bump pushing out the front of his new green sweater which didn’t do as good a job of hiding it as Sev had thought it would. He came over to Sev, and kissed his cheek and ran his hand over the soft short hairs on the side of his head. His fingers felt as if they were charged with an electric current.

“Aunt Spider,” Sev replied. “She ran a hair salon in her younger days.”

“I…….It looks very nice,” Remus said, quietly, looking at him steadily. “ _He knows,”_ though Sev. “ _He knows. He gets it, how hard it is to have Potter here, in this house, where I dreamed of his mother and yearned for her, and lost her forever.”_

“Yes professor,” piped up Granger. “It does.”

“ _Well at least Remus is getting through to her_ ,” Sev thought.

Remus was beside him, not touching him, but so close he could feel his warmth. Sev looked again into Harry’s green eyes. And then he felt it leave him, suddenly, the rage and sadness he had lived with for so long. _“I don’t hate him any more,”_ Sev thought. It was like the lifting of a tremendous burden. He took a deep breath in.

“Potter,” he said, not shifting his gaze from those green, green eyes, knowing that if either of them looked away the moment would be lost, and he would never say what he had to say. Harry held his gaze. He heard Hermione give a tiny gasp and she took Potter’s hand. He sensed that Draco had dropped his pretence of not caring what was going on in the room and was also looking at him steadily.

“What Lupin has told you is true,” he said. “I took the mark when I was seventeen, the same age you are now.” He pronated his arm so they could see it, sharply etched in black against his pale skin. “For years I was one of the Dark Lord’s most avid followers, and one of his rising stars. All that changed on the night your parents were killed.”

“Why?” asked Harry, his eyes boring into Sev’s. It was almost as if their gazes were held by a spell. “What did that have to do with you?”

Sev almost looked away then, but he managed to hold Potter’s gaze. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “It’s not important, any more.” He stood a little straighter, shifted a tiny bit closer to Remus. “On that night I pledged my loyalty to Dumbledore, and his cause. I pledged to work to defeat the Dark Lord if he ever rose again, a pledge I have never broken.”

“Not until you killed -” started Harry, but Sev raised his hand and Harry fell silent.

“Sixteen years ago, I entered Dumbledore’s service and I have never wavered. For years he was my advisor, my mentor, and closest friend. Since the return of the Dark Lord I have worked tirelessly as a double agent. I have spied, I have lied, I have done everything in my power to defeat the Dark Lord. I hate him as much as you do. Probably more. I have more…...personal experience with him.

“It is true that I cast the spell that killed Dumbledore. I know how it looked to you that night, in the tower. But believe me when I tell you that it was at his specific request. Believe me when I tell you that it was the hardest thing that I have ever done. I…..I still don’t know…….really…….that…….I did….the right thing.” And Sev looked away, the gaze was broken, and he staggered a bit. Remus caught him by the elbow, to steady him. He straightened and looked around the room. The three teenagers stared back at him, their eyes full of questions.

Sev reached into his robes and removed two wands. He handed Hermione her wand, then gave Potter the broken phoenix feather wand. Harry looked at the useless thing, laying in his hand and for a moment Sev thought he might cry.

“Thank you, professor,” Hermione whispered

Sev ran his hand through his new short hair. He felt clean, naked, and thoroughly depleted. “I’m knackered,” he announced. “I’m going to bed.” He drained the last of his whiskey, and, glass still in hand, turned from the room, through the darkened kitchen, and up the stairs to bed.

******

When Remus entered the bedroom he found Sev was already undressed, stretched out face down and naked, waiting for him. He looked utterly beautiful in the low light of the bedside lamp, and Remus felt his breath hitch. He locked the door, double locked it and cast a silencing charm. He slipped out of his own clothes quickly, and lay on top of Sev. His cock, all ready hard, slid between the cheeks of Sev’s arse. His mouth went to the clean, bare nape of Sev's neck. Remus had meant this to go slow, teasingly, agonizingly, slow, but he found he was having trouble holding back. Sev’s breathing was deep and dense with desire. Remus lifted himself up partway on his knees, so he could get his hands around Sev’s bum, squeezing and kneading the firm muscles, enjoying the feel of them beneath his hands and Sev moaned a little bit and arched toward him. Remus kissed his way to Sev’s ear and he whispered, “Ready for your Christmas present?” Sev moaned again and turned his head so their hot mouths met and Remus liked the taste of him. He liked the feel of Sev beneath him. He thrust his hips, his cock sliding over Sev’s back, pleasure washing through him, and Sev was moving his own hips back, to meet Remus.

“You have to ask,” Remus whispered, hoarsely, struggling to maintain his control.

“Do me Lupin,” Sev whispered back, his voice a tight coil.

Remus kissed his way down, until his mouth was on the firm, round rise of Sev’s bum, kissing, his lips moving over the smooth warm skin, biting delicately, and then dove deeper in, licking Sev open, enjoying the sweet, musky taste of him. He kept it up until Sev was writhing, shaking with want. Then he put on a condom and lowered himself down again, his cock pressing hard into Sev’s buttock.

“Ask nicely,” he whispered nibbling at Sev’s ear. He pressed his face into Sev’s new, short hair. It felt amazing against his cheek. “Say please.”

“Please Lupin,” Sev growled. “Do it, all ready! Do it now! Please.”

Remus smiled to himself. He didn’t think he had ever wanted anything quite so much. He got up on his knees so the bump would not be in the way, spread Sev’s legs and slowly, slow as he could manage, pushed his cock inside. He felt Sev exhale beneath him, felt Sev tight, impossibly tight, around him.

“Relax,” he whispered, pushing in a little more, slow, exquisite. He was holding himself back now, his hips wanted to thrust, to fuck hard, but he didn't want to hurt Sev. Sev breathed out deeply and Remus pushed in a little more.

“All right?” he whispered. Sev nodded. He kissed the back of Sev’s neck. “Breathe,” he whispered. Sev pushed back against him a little more. “You’ll get used to it,” Remus whispered. He pushed in a little deeper. “I love you. Breathe.”

Remus let his hips thrust, just a bit, and felt Sev gasp in response. He reached his hand, to circle Sev’s cock and Sev let out a low, animal moan and thrust back against him.

Then Remus was fucking him, each thrust a little deeper, a little harder, and Sev was fucking him back, his breath short and tight, and Remus hoped it was all right because it was good, so good that he couldn't slow himself down, couldn’t hold back any longer.

At first, for Sev the pressure was intense, so intense he wondered if he could take it, but then everything contracted down to Remus, his hard cock moving inside him, his voice whispering “Breathe,” his voice whispering “I love you.” The whole world reduced to that, just that, just that again, and again. The pressure was intensifying the pleasure and then he wanted more, he didn’t want it to stop. Remus was moving faster inside him, there was a rhythm to it. Remus had his hand tight around his cock and Sev was fucking it, with Remus hard and deep inside him and then he was coming, the pleasure radiating out from his cock to his whole body, and then the world went perfectly still.

*******

“All right?” came the voice, not so much whispered in his ear as breathed.

Sev lay on his belly, legs sprawled, Remus still inside him as he slowly came back to himself, He groaned a little and shifted and felt the other man slide out of him, his weight came off him, and Severus breathed and stretched. He felt Remus’ arms go around his waist and he felt him curl around him, pregnant belly pushing into his back and he felt a whisper of foetal movement as a limb of some kind poked through and fluttered against him.

“Was it…..okay?” Remus asked anxiously.

“It was…...very good, Lupin. Don’t let’s ruin it by talking about it, all right?”

“All right,” said Remus. They adjusted themselves so that they lay facing each other, Severus’ legs sprawled across Remus’, cocks brushing lightly together, Remus’ pregnant belly resting on Sev’s thigh.

“I love that smell,” said Remus, sighing deeply and resting his head on Severus’ shoulder.

“What smell?” asked Severus languidly

“Sex.”

Severus laughed softly and rubbed his hand on Remus’ stomach and was rewarded by another small ghostlike limb poking through. Remus was smiling at him, running his hand over Sev’s new, short hair, petting it smooth. They lay together, breathing each other in. “What made you cut your hair?” Remus asked at last.

“My aunts have been after me to let them cut it for years. I just decided…...I need a new look,” Sev ran his hand through it and tilted his head back. “Do I look more gay?” he demanded.

Remus looked him up and down critically.  “You know, you do,” he said, grinning at him. “I like it.” He started to giggle and then they were laughing together.

When the laughter had abated, Remus pulled Sev close and kissed his cheek. “You did well tonight, talking to Harry,” he said. “He needed to hear it from you.”

“I…...it wasn’t easy, Lupin.”

“I know.”

“I was terrified.”

“I know.”

“I do care about emotions, you know.”

It was Remus’ turn to laugh softly. “I know you do,” he said.

“I’m just not very good at…..expressing them. It was never encouraged much, around here.”

“Well, you did all right tonight,” said Remus, kissing him.

“What do you think they are going to do now?” Sev asked.

“Harry and Hermione?” said Remus. “That, I don’t know. I’ve no idea.” He moved and stretched, pulled the blankets up around them, started to settle himself for sleep. “We should get tested, Sev,” he said.

“What? Tested? What are you talking about?”

“Stds? HIV? Then if we test negative , we can get rid of the condoms.”

“I…..how? People do that?” Sev asked, stupidly.

“All the time, love,” said Remus kissing his nose.

“I…..where?”

“Well, we’d have to venture out into the Muggle world. But it might be worth it.”

“All right,” said Sev slowly.

“Good, said Remus. “That’s settled” He turned so his back was nestled against Sev. Sev rested a hand on the baby bump, which was quiet now. Remus sighed contentedly And it was only when he thought there was a fairly good chance that Remus had drifted off to sleep that Severus whispered in his ear, “I love you too, you know.”

Remus stirred “I heard you,” he said.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“I didn’t make you say it,” said Remus sleepily. “Did I?”

“Yes, absolutely, you did,” said Severus. “I never would have said it if it wasn’t for you.”

*********

In the morning when they woke up, Harry and Hermione were gone. Their blanket rolls were neatly folded on the faded rose sofa. There was no note, no clue where they had gone. They had taken their wands, the whole one and the broken one, with them.


	19. Sono, Doe and Sword

On a sunny Saturday in January Oxford Circus was crowded with shoppers.The air was crisp and cold, the sunshine, slanting between the tall buildings, was bright. Sev and Remus were walking close together, not touching, but almost. Remus caught their reflection in the plate glass window of a shoe shop as they passed by.

Sev, wearing black jeans and a black jacket was looking very handsome, Remus thought. He had transfigured his new, short hair to a bleached blond and was wearing dark mirrored sunglasses. He hurried along, looking straight ahead, although Remus knew that behind the glasses his eyes were surveying the crowd warily.

Remus had transfigured his hair long and black, transformed a set of Sev’s old robes to a calf length black dress and put on a glamour that made him look like Sev’s somewhat too tall pregnant girlfriend. An ancient lipstick deep in the medicine cabinet at Spinner's End had completed the look, and Remus was rather pleased. He felt that they were indistinguishable from any one of a hundred Muggle couples, out for a bit of shopping.

Remus was enjoying the outing thoroughly. He had been cooped up at Spinner’s End by now for over two months. The street was bright and bustling with people. Remus had lived in Muggle London most of his adult life. It was his city, and it felt great to be back.

The sexual health clinic was drab and dreary, with a basket of condoms on a table by the front door and bright posters advertising the joys of contraception and STD prevention. They sat and held hands in a stuffy overheated room while they watched a mandatory informational video. Then they watched each other have tubes of blood drawn from their arms by a cheerful nurse in blue scrubs, first Severus, then Remus. As she was labeling his sample the nurse looked right at Remus and asked him, “Are you going to your prenatal visits, then?”

Startled, Remus didn’t know what to say. “Er….no….I haven’t started, no.”

She looked at him oddly. Remus hadn’t done anything to disguise his voice and he knew it was too deep, the inflection too male, to match the glamour he was wearing.

“How far along are you?” she asked, all clinical efficiency.

“Erm…..” he looked over at Sev for help but he looked even more uncomfortable than Remus himself felt. “Four months probably. Maybe five.” he tried to raise the pitch of his voice, but it just came out sounding odd.

“You must make an appointment,” she declared. “You should have a proper prenatal visit. Are you taking vitamins?’’’

“Yes,” Remus said. He had been, every day, from the bottle Poppy had left him.

“I can do a sono now if you like,” the nurse offered, and before he quite knew what was happening Remus was up on an exam table, in a darkened room, with Sev sitting nervously beside him and a probe smeared with cold wet gel on his belly. And there, in the grainy black and white images on the screen, he saw the baby.

“That’s his face,” said the nurse, kindly. Sev reached for Remus’ hand and grasped it. “There look, he’s sucking his thumb, you see? That’s a hand, an arm, a foot,” she said, moving the probe around. Remus couldn’t stop watching the images. “It’s…..there it’s a boy,” she pronounced, though Remus, staring at the screen, wasn’t sure how she’d determined that. She sounded certain, however. “There's his face again,” she said. She pressed a button and a grainy black and white paper printed. She handed it solemnly to Remus. In it, you could clearly make out the baby’s face.

Then they got a lecture on the importance of prenatal care, a list of clinics to call, and they were out on the street, holding hands, both of them looking at the world as if they were seeing it for the very first time.

*********

Late that night Remus lay alone in the bed at Spinner’s End. He had an ancient tome called _The Moste Evil Artes_ open before him, but mostly he was thinking contentedly about the day he’d just spent with Sev. After the sexual health clinic they’d gone into a maternity shop called _The Peapod,_ where Sev had insisted that they buy Remus some clothes. They’d come away with several pairs of black stretch pants, some big loose cotton shirts, and a grey jumper that wasn’t too girly.They’d gone to lunch in a Muggle pub, come back to Spinner’s End to make love, and then Sev had gone through the floo back to Hogwarts.

Remus was not expecting to see him again for a few days, so he was very surprised when he heard a rattle in the fireplace and Sev came into the room, dressed to travel, his face intense.

“Lupin,” he said, brushing himself off. “Dress.”

“Sev, what are you doing here?”

Sev went over to him and kissed him briefly. “Dress,” he said again, pulling him out of bed impatiently. “Dress warmly. We may be outside for a while.”

“But where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” said Sev. “But I want you with me. Here,” he added reaching under his cloak. He pulled out - the sword of Gryffindor and handed it to Remus. “You’re the Gryffindor,” he said. “You may as well take charge of it now.”

“Holy fuck!” exclaimed Remus, holding the sword and staring at it in wonder. The sword was so dense and heavy he nearly lost his balance. He held it in two hands, stared at the shimmering steel, polished to a sheen, the glittering rubies, the fancy, engraved scroll work of the hilt.

“Godric’s balls, Sev. Where did you get this thing?” whispered Remus, staring at it in wonder.

“Albus gave it to me, obviously. Now get dressed. I need your help.”

“But what are we doing with it?”

“Potter needs it.”

“Harry?” said Remus. “But…..do you know where he is?”

“I do.”

“But…...”

Sev silenced him with a kiss. “I haven’t time to explain, now,” he said. “Just get dressed and come. You’ll see when we get there.”

Remus pulled on his new pants and a shirt. “Two pairs,” Sev instructed. “And two jumpers. It's freezing out.” When Remus was dressed Sev belted the sword around his hips, below the bump.

“How do I look?” asked Remus.

“Heroic,” said Sev dryly. “Let’s go.”

 

*******

They apparated to a still woods deep in snow. Remus, warm in his double layers of clothing looked around. It was a moonless night, the blackness velvety and dense. “Where’s Harry?” he said. “Where are we?”

“The Forest of Dean,” Sev whispered. “They’re here somewhere, but, if they’ve any sense at all they’ve hidden themselves well.”

“How will we find them?” asked Remus, peering around, hoping his eyes would adjust to the velvety blackness. There was a tiny bit of starlight reflected off the blanket of snow on the ground.

“We’ll have to send them a message. First we have to…… shh,” Sev whispered suddenly and pulled Remus off the trail, deep into the cover of some bushes. _“Muffliato!”_ he cast quietly. There was someone coming along the trail.

A tall skinny figure walked by in the dark, wearing Muggle jeans and trainers and looking about uncertainly. He turned his head, as if he caught a whisper of movement in the bushes, and Remus saw his face, his russet hair in the starlight. “It’s Ron,” he mouthed at Sev, who nodded and put a finger to his lips. They stood there barely breathing, and watched as the long limbed figure resumed his way, slowly, glancing about as if he were looking for something and gradually disappeared from sight.

“What’s Ron doing here?” asked Remus.

“Looking for Potter and Granger, apparently,” said Sev. “We’re going to have to avoid him, which is only going to make our task more difficult. Come on!” He lit the end of his wand with a whispered “ _Lumos!”_ then shielded it with his hand so the light wouldn’t travel too far across the snow. He started down the forest path, in the opposite direction as Ron.

“But what are we doing?” asked Remus, struggling to catch up with him.

“Looking for a place to hide a sword,“ said Sev, striding forward. “Cover our tracks, will you?”

As they walked through the woods, Sev explained their task to Remus. At last they came to a rounded depression in the forest floor, almost like bowl, with a bit of ice in the bottom.

“A vernal pool,” Remus whispered. “It will be full of water come spring.”

“It will do,” said Sev. He raised his wand. “ _Aguaferro!_ ” he cried, and water poured out of his wand.

The little pool filled with water quickly, and a skim of ice started to form almost immediately in the cold air. Sev cast some more spells, deepening the pool, and ensuring that only those of a heroic nature could enter it. Remus unbuckled the heavy sword, and handed it to Sev. The metal was cold and heavy, the rubies in the hilt caught the starlight and glinted. Sev held it up for a moment, examining it, testing the weight and heft in his hand, then he dropped it in the pool. The water closed silently over it, and they could see it, clearly, shimmering silvery and red at the bottom.

“Now the messenger,” said Sev. He looked into Remus’ eyes for a long moment. _“Expecto Patronum!”_ he cried, and a silver doe leapt from his wand and went bounding off into the trees, lighting them with a bright glow as she disappeared.

“Now what?” said Remus.

“Now we wait,” said Sev. He led Remus behind a tree, with a fork halfway up where they could look out and remain hidden. He carefully covered over their footprints with his wand. His arms went around Remus and he bent to kiss him.

“Cold?” he asked, when they came up for air.

“I’m fine,” said Remus. “You’re warming me up. And I’m wearing two pairs of pants.”

"Shh,” said Sev, putting a finger on Remus’ lips. “Someone’s coming.”

They watched together, through the crook in the tree, as Sev’s silvery doe patronus came back through the woods, followed by Harry. They watched as he undressed, looked doubtfully into the pool and dived. When he started flailing around in the water, obviously in trouble, Remus started forward, but Sev held him back as Ron emerged from the forest opposite them, pulled Harry out of the pool and cut loose the chain that was choking him. They watched as they sputtered and made up. They saw Ron raise the sword against the horcrux, heard it’s taunts and it’s death cry, and stood silently watching as the two young men hugged each other and left the clearing together.


	20. The Barrow

A few nights after the night of the doe and the sword, Voldemort called a meeting of his innermost circle, and Sev found himself deep below the Riddle manor in Little Hangleton, where he decidedly did not want to be. When the mark had burned, he and Remus had been asleep, twined tightly around each other. They had stood in their bedroom, naked and shivering, and recited the Kabbalistic spell together. He could still feel Remus’ breath on his cheek as they whispered the Hebrew words, the brush of his lips in silent farewell, the firm rise of his belly against Sev’s flat one as he held him, briefly, before he let him go.

He felt the Kabbalistic magic in him now, dense and smoky, deep in his bones, strengthening his defenses. He knew he couldn’t get through this meeting without it.

He was in a dark, stone lined tunnel, behind Bellatrix who, he noticed with satisfaction, was having considerable difficulty maneuvering the narrow steep passageway. Behind her, Thorfinn Rowle hit his head on a low beam and swore loudly. Behind Rowle was Corban Yaxley, head of Magical Law Enforcement, and one of Voldemort’s nastiest bullies. Behind Yaxley, Pius Thicknesse wheezed, struggling to keep up. When he had first become minister of Magic he had been imperiussed, but he had since crossed over to their side. In the rear, Runcorn, Travers and Nott fell into line. Capheus Zabini, tall and silent as a shadow, brought up the rear.

Notably absent were the Malfoys, who were in disgrace, the Carrows, who were looked down on by Voldemort for their working class roots, and Pettigrew, who was considered unreliable around sensitive information.

Voldemort had designed this chamber like a lock. Sev himself was the secret keeper for the location of this hidden passage and the multitude of passwords required to get in, but the protections went much deeper than that. A silver knife hung by the door to the inner chamber. No one could enter that room without spilling blood.

The passage opened out into a sort of antechamber that was lined with bones. Stacks on stacks of neatly sorted femurs, radii, tibias. A pile of small squarish bones that must have once been fingers and toes. A huge inverted triangle made of skulls, stacked one on top if the other, facing out, the eye sockets making rows of black dots in the dim light.

Sev stood behind Bellatrix as she slashed her thumb with the knife. It was made of silver, blackened with age and blood, and hung from a heavy chain on the wall. She placed her bloodied finger on the stone entrance to the room,and murmurred the password. Sev behind her, did the same. It took every ounce of concentration he had, as an occlumens, to get through that doorway without betraying himself.

The inner chamber was the barrow of the medieval lord who had built the manor. He lay in state in a stone sarcophagus. A great silver sword hung on the wall behind him. Rumor was that if the sword were ever removed, the building would fall.

The floor of the chamber was dry and sandy and the whole room smelled of snakes. Sev was familiar with the smell from his work as a potioneer. He used snakeskin regularly for his work. He occasionally kept snakes, in glass tanks in his office, and milked them for their venom. He didn’t really mind the smell of snake.

But in this chamber the odor was ranker, fresher, more threatening. This room had been the domain of snakes for centuries, They tolerated the presence of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, of course, because Voldemort could speak to them. They lined the edges of the room territorially now, dark and slithering, tongues flicking continually, eyes glistening.

The Dark Lord was seated at a long black table made of stone. He sat at dead center, beneath the silver sword, and in front of the huge stone sarcophagus, facing the door. His eyes glowed red, his face, white against the dark stone, was a snake like mask. Nagini was draped across his shoulders, a weird parody of a shawl. Torches sputtered in wall sconces, their low light reflecting unevenly off Nagini as she undulated her sinuous body. The snakes in the corners rustled.

Each Death Eater had their particular place in this room, and they filed in to take them. Sev and Bellatrix flanked Voldemort, the others sat facing them. Nagini turned her head to hiss at Sev as he took his seat. There was no chatter, none of the idle gossip and light banter that often preceded the start of a regular Death Eater meeting. These were Voldemort’s most trusted advisers, and this was serious business. They took their seats without speaking and looked at him expectantly.

Voldemort looked around the silent, tense room and Sev could tell that he was pleased. These were the moments he liked best. He liked the spooky gothic setting, the fear of the powerful wizards, gathered around the table, palpable in the chilly air.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Sev thought defiantly. It was the secret to his success as an occlumens. There was no room for fear. The wall, behind which he hid all his secrets, was built on that small rebellious voice. It was the cornerstone.

Except now, for the first time, he was afraid. Now, for the first time in many years, he had something to lose.

The image of the little Christmas tree, shining in the parlor at Spinner's End, flashed across his eyes, followed by the grainy, bluish image of the baby’s face from the sonogram. He quickly tamped them back. He couldn’t afford to slip up like that. Voldemort was at this moment flipping through the minds of his followers, searching for any hint of betrayal.

Voldemort raised his bony white hands, an unnecessary gesture, as the room was already dead silent, save for the scaly rustling of the snakes in their corners. “I have brought you here,” he began, ”for a completion of our mission.”

“Yes my lord,” came the murmurred reply of the group.

“Let me know what I can do, my lord,” cried Bellatrix, her voice rising above the rest. “And it will be done!”

“Bellatrix,” said Voldemort slowly, teasingly, “Your enthusiasm shall be rewarded.”

“Me too, my lord"……."Me as well,” came the cries of the assorted Death Eaters, anxious to show that their loyalty was equal to Bellatrix's.

“Silence!” Voldemort’s cold, high voice rang out. “There will be plenty of chances to demonstrate your loyalty in the coming months, I assure you.”

When the room was quiet again, Voldemort continued. “We have done well,” he said.

“Yes, my lord,” came the murmurs of assent.

“We have the wizarding world under our control, have we not?” he asked, turning to Yaxley.

“Yes. Yes my lord,” Yaxley said with a nervous cough. "We do indeed.”

Sev had never quite understood Yaxley and his rise to power. Sev himself had never been particularly concerned about who got control of the ministry. Hogwarts had always been his focus, the headmaster post his goal. Yaxley had wormed his way to power almost without Sev’s noticing it. He had always supposed Voldemort had made him head of Magical Law Enforcement because he had a natural penchant for bullying. But he had a devious side. Sev had no doubt he would use his power to undermine Sev’s if he could.

“We have a few loose ends,” Voldemort stated. “Such as Potter. And an annoyingly persistent band of those that call themselves the Order of the Phoenix. But with Dumbledore gone they lack leadership. They are weak, scattered. Like dry leaves, they represent no threat. We are, for the most part victorious.”

“Yes, my lord” came a scattering of mumbled assents. Severus himself remained quiet. He made a point of not groveling before the Dark Lord at these meetings, acting his part of the trusted first advisor, with no need to beg for favor.

“I have thought long and hard,” the Dark Lord continued, “about what our next move should be. I have decided that our focus should be in two areas, The first obviously is find Potter. No stone should be left unturned, no clue neglected or ignored. Our victory will never be secured while Potter is at large. You all must be on your guard at all times. In the words of Alastor Moody, one of our worst enemies, one who is now vanquished forever, “Constant vigilance!!!”

He shouted the words making the assembled jump in the chilly room. A collective hiss emanated from the snakes in the corners, then the room fell silent once again.

Voldemort continued, “As our conquest of the wizarding world is nearing completion, it is time to turn our attention to the Muggle world. Here indeed is where our true challenge lies. For too many years we have lived in hiding. We have formed a secret society, and for a large part we have lived very well. But does it not seem odd to you, my most trusted followers, does it not strike you as strange, that we, the wizards and witches, the most powerful beings ever to walk the earth, able to do magic, to transfigure matter, to move objects with our wands at will, to kill with a single curse, should live in hiding, in the darkness, like rats in the hold of some stinking ship?” The tension in his odd, high voice rose as he spoke, with each word, until it filled the chilly room and Sev thought it might shatter, like overheated glass, by the end of the sentence.

“And why do we confront this situation?” asked Voldemort rhetorically. “Because fools - fools such as Albus Dumbledore and his followers - the Fool Order of the Fool Phoenix," (a few of the assembled laughed feebly at this attempt at humor.) “Have insisted on maintaining the Statute of Secrecy, a misguided document that goes back to the middle ages. And what has happened to the world in this time? The Muggles have expanded their powers, fought great wars. They pollute the earth, murder and starve each other on a regular basis, create great weapons of mass destruction that could kill us all. Their world is gone amuck, lacking the guidance of the wizarding race, wiser, more powerful beings, we who could guide them to an existence of peace and happiness.

“The time has come” he said, dropping his voice once again, “to fix this situation. The time is drawing near, to make ourselves known, as the true masters of the Muggle race. Only when we are known, in all our true power and glory, only when we rule them outright, only when the Muggles of the world understand their place as an inferior race, to be ruled over by wizards, to do our bidding, to worship us, only then will our victory be complete.”

Voldemort's words hung in the room. Sev felt a chill in the dank, heavy air of the dungeon. He had known this was coming, but to hear the words, from the white, snake-like face of the Dark Lord himself, filled him with a fear he could not suppress.

“The problem is, how to start,” Voldemort continued. “They will resist, you see, they will not take the news that they are an inferior race easily, oh no. They will fight us. They will fight us with everything they have. The war that is coming, for the dominance of the Muggles will be our fiercest battle, much, much bigger, and more violent, than anything we have yet seen.” And his eyes glinted, a brighter red, in anticipation of the bloodshed.

“I wish to minimize the amount of wizarding casualties in this enterprise. Obviously. We will need to take a creative strategy.”

“And what is that, master?” Bellatrix whispered, her black eyes glinting in the low torchlight.

“We must recruit the Muggles to our cause,” replied Voldemort. A ringing silence met this proclamation.

“Oh, yes,” said Voldemort. “We must start slowly, of course. There are those that are ripe for the picking. Malcontents. Rebels. Those that can’t get a decent job. Those that feel they have been cheated of the good things in life. Those with a taste for violence, a taste that modern society cannot…...satisfy. They already exist. They are already organized in places. We just need…….” said Voldemort, and his face twisted into a grimace that could, on a different face, have been called a smile, “to fan the flames.”

The room was dead quiet. Voldemort looked around the circle, from face to face.

“My Lord - I have an uncle…."  Rowle’s voice sounded uncertain in the silent room.

“An uncle, Rowle?” asked Voldemort.

“My uncle - he’s a....a skinhead like - goes to all the rallies. I’m….. I’m half muggle,” he confessed.

“Like me,” Sev couldn’t help thinking. “And like Him.”

“And you think…….your uncle….this Muggle…..might work with us? “ asked Voldemort.

“Mebbe,” said Rowel. “He knows about wizarding stuff. He’s….. He’s always been a bit interested, you know intrigued. He’d…….he’d be taken with you, Lord. Thinks a man should be strong, you know.”

“Yes,” said Voldemort. “He is correct about that.” He thought for a long moment. “Talk to him,” he said at last. “Do not tell him our true purpose - to enslave him and his kind. But perhaps he can be used. There are too many of them,” he added thoughtfully. “We must design a plan so they reduce each other’s numbers. Given the right encouragement, and their natural tendencies, it shouldn’t be hard.”

He looked around the chilly room slowly one more time. The smell of snake was starting to make Sev nauseous. He longed to be free of this dark, dank room, with tons of earth and stone pressing in above them. The image came to him of running through the snowy woods, cold and clean, as a panther, the moon bright above, the wolf, his mate, beside him. And then, it happened, in an instant. He felt the familiar electric prickle of Voldemort in his mind and he knew that his defenses had been breached. Voldemort had seen. Sev put his hand to the back of his head where he felt, almost that he had been stabbed. He looked into Voldemort’s fiery red eyes and he saw the shock and betrayal there.

Sev felt the color drain from his face, a damp moistness on his upper lip. He had instantly clamped down the wall again, but it was too late. Voldemort had seen one of Sev’s many secrets. He knew his reaction was giving him away, confirming any doubt Voldemort might have over what he had seen. Sev stood, staggering slightly, holding on to the back of a chair for balance.

“My Lord,” he murmurred.

“Severusssss” hissed the Dark Lord, and every snake in the room hissed in response. “You have kept something from me, I think."

The voice was soft, too soft. It was heavy, with a world of threat behind it. Sev tried to swallow though his mouth was like sandpaper. There was no escaping from this room. He was going to have to bluff his way through.

“My Lord it is a new skill, recently acquired," he began. “I … I meant it as a surprise, for you, My Lord."

“A surprise, Severus?” said Voldemort, without a trace of humor in his cold, cold voice.

“I…..I wanted to make sure I had it perfectly, before I showed you, My Lord.” Would he fall for this? It seemed incredibly weak to Sev, but it was all he had.

“I.....I thought it might be useful to you, My Lord. A useful skill.”

Voldemort looked back at him steadily.

“There was another creature there,” he said. “Grey and large.”

“Sometimes…...I have found another creature to play with me when I am transformed,” Sev said. “A fox….. or…..or a wolf.”

Voldemort looked him over steadily “You have cut your hair, Severus,” he said at last.

“Yes, my Lord,” said Sev, wishing sincerely at that moment that he hadn’t.

“Bellatrix has been saying that you have changed, but I have seen nothing….nothing unusual in your memories…….until just now.”

“It is the Animagus charm, My Lord,” said Sev.” It can affect the person - the animal influences the human. I….am affected by the panther. That is all.”

Voldemort kept looking at him steadily. He knew he was raking his mind, for other memories. Sev felt the smoky Kabbalistic magic deep in his bones. As long as he kept up his concentration, he would be okay.

At last Voldemort seemed satisfied. He looked away. “Demonstrate, your new power for us, Severus,” he said slowly, silkily.

Sev hated to do it. This was private, something between Remus and himself, but he was trapped. He stood up in the cold barrow and took a deep breath in. He became a panther, head held high, yellow eyes blazing. There was a murmur of appreciation from the assembled Death Eaters. He strode over, on silent paws, and bowed before the Dark Lord, lowering his head first and then, slowly, ceremonially, lowering his chest to the cold flagstones in a gesture of supplication. Nagini hissed.

**********

Remus woke to Sev’s lips on his, Sev’s hips on his, the orange light from the street, reflected off the January snow, making the room garish. Sev kissed and pressed into him, drawing Remus from sleep. “ _Something’s happened,”_ Remus thought groggily, sensing that Sev was upset, but Sev’s mouth was hot and urgent on his, his breathing ragged, his hard, angular body pushing into Remus with an intensity that couldn’t be denied. Remus, half asleep, responded in kind, drawing in his breath sharply and kissing back, pushing his hips against Sev’s, pushing his rapidly hardening cock into the warm fold of Sev’s groin. “ _Fuck it,_ ” he thought, wanting him badly, all at once. _“He’ll tell me after.”_

He had on his blue satin pajamas, the bottom of the shirt left unbuttoned to make room for the bump and Sev was making love to the fabric, biting hard to get at Remus’ nipples. Then his lips were gliding over the rise of Remus’ belly, sliding over the smooth skin, tonguing the bump. When he got to Remus’ navel he licked it lightly, his whole mouth a tease. Then, with one smooth motion he shoved down Remus’ blue satin trousers and took his cock in his mouth. Remus pushed into the delicious warm wet of Sev’s mouth, the cold air of the room hitting his bare skin, giving him goosebumps. Sev held him softly in his mouth at first, his tongue making light teasing circles, but then he was licking him like an ice lolly, up the glans and over the head and then he was sucking at him, hard and Remus wanted more. He wanted the weight of Sev’s body to push against. He wanted Sev’s cock up his ass. He hauled on Sev’s head, his shoulders, clawing a little, feeling desperate and rough, grabbing Sev’s head on both sides and smashing their mouths together. Their tongues were hard and hungry, then Sev started slowing it down, kissing Remus’ mouth delicately, tenderly, every whisper of breath adding to their excitement. Finally Sev groaned and budged up, pushing his cock against Remus’ arse, and god, Remus wanted him. He fumbled in the nightstand for the lube, while Sev impatiently, worked his way out of his trousers and his pants. Remus, his excitement building lubed Sev’s cock, while Sev kissed and bit at his neck and shoulders, licking his adam's apple with his tongue, sucking at the side of his neck until it hurt and Remus knew he had left a mark. Sev kissed over to the angle of his jaw and his tongue lapped at it delicately, burrowing in the soft, sensitive spot below the ear.

“Now, love,” Remus grunted and looked up at Sev. His eyes were closed, his face lost in pleasure. He was powerfully beautiful. Remus pulled up his legs and spread his cheeks and gasped with pure pleasure as Sev entered him. It was so what he wanted, what he needed. Sev, on his knees groaned and pushed in deeper and Remus wriggled, pushing against him, wanting more. Sev took Remus by the hips and pulled him toward him further, and there…..there was the rhythm, Sev pulling Remus in by the hips with every thrust. Remus took his own cock in his hand as Sev’s were busy, holding him by the hips, shoving him back and forth over his cock, pulling him, steadying him against his thrusts. Remus started rubbing himself, intensifying the pleasure, first hard and fast, then slow and soft, then fast again, faster because Sev’s cock was a hard rod inside him and Remus knew that Sev was close. He could tell by his breathing and the intensity of his fucking. He himself was close, they both were and everything felt so good and then he just wanted…...just ….wanted …. it like that….. and again. A deep animal like groan came from Sev, then Remus was coming hard with Sev inside him, and reaching up and pulling Sev down onto his chest because all he wanted, at that moment, was to hold onto him as tightly as he could.

They lay intertwined, skin pressed to skin, for a long time, as their breathing slowed. Remus really just wanted to drift back off to sleep, with Sev safe and warm beside him. At last he reached up and kissed Sev on the mouth, enjoying the warm soft feel of him for one final, luxurious second.

“What happened?“ he asked, at last, knowing that whatever it was, he wasn’t going to like it.

Sev shifted and lay on his side, leaning on one elbow, looking down at Remus who rolled onto his back to be able to look straight up into his face.

“The Dark Lord…..he…..broke through, Lupin,” said Sev shakily. He was still panting a bit, from the sex, but Remus’ question had brought him quickly back to reality.

“Broke through?” said Remus.

“Yes.”

“Into your mind?”

“Yes.”

“How….. how much did he see?” asked Remus at once.

“I think….. just the panther and…. and a hint of the wolf.”

“That’s all?” asked Remus sharply. There was a lot at stake. They could be exposed. Harry’s safety could be compromised.

“I…..I realized what was happening and strengthened my defenses immediately. It was just a…..a momentary lapse. I was so miserable sitting in that barrow….and then I started remembering…..what it felt like…...to be free.”

Remus sat up and looked into his eyes, his face filled with fear and pity. “And then what happened?” demanded Remus at last.

Sev shook himself. “I…...told him it was a surprise. That I had become an animagus for him. That it was for the cause. That I’d been practicing, and that I wanted to make sure I had the spell down before I showed it to him.”

“And he believed that?” asked Remus incredulously.

“Apparently,” said Sev. “As I am here, fucking you, and not in some horrible dungeon in Azkaban.”

“Thank Merlin and Morgana,” said Remus, and he put his arms around Sev and pulled him close.

“I…..I slipped up,” said Sev, into his shoulder. “That’s never happened. Not in all these years.”

“We should leave,” said Remus, letting go of Sev. He put his feet on the floor.

“What?” said Sev, confused by this turn of mood.

“Get on a Muggle train or something and go.” Remus walked naked over to the wardrobe, his belly a tight ball sticking straight out in front of him, and started hunting for clothes, turning over items on the low shelf impatiently.

“Lupin, slow down,” said Sev.

“No. You’re in danger. I don’t like it. We should go.”

“Remus, while I’m flattered that your first instinct is to protect me…”

“You called me Remus,” said Remus, looking up at him from where he was bending to put on some pants.

“Yes, well…”

“You hardly ever call me Remus."

“Don't I?”

“No,”

“Be that as it may……” said Sev, brushing off the emotional distraction and getting back to business. “Much as I would like to, we cannot flee.”

“You're in danger…….in…...mortal peril. What else can we do?”

“I’m sure if you stop to think for a minute you won't need me to tell you why we can’t leave.”

And Remus realized, all at once that Sev was right. There was Harry. The horcruxes. The war against Voldemort. They couldn’t just run away. They had to see it through.

They looked at each other. Remus, who was half dressed in the cold room, shivered. Sev got out of bed and put his arms around him. “I think I talked my way out of it,” he said gently, kissing his cheek, his ear, his neck. “I think it’s going to be all right.”

“The Dark Lord’s not really very bright, is he?” said Remus.

“That,” said Sev, kissing him on the nose, “Is one of the secrets to my success.”

“I love you,” said Remus, holding him.

“And I love you as well,” replied Sev.

“Too bad we had to wait until the end of things to find each other.”

“I know,” said Sev, kissing him again, and Remus saw there were tears in his eyes. “I know.”


	21. A Visitor

Remus was in the kitchen at Spinner’s End, making lentil soup. He had some bacon and an onion, a few stalks of celery and a handful of mushrooms. He was quite pleased. Sev would probably be round with groceries tonight, hungry, and Remus was glad to be able to piece together a meal from what they had in the house. There would be hot soup waiting for Sev when he arrived.

Sev appreciated these kinds of homey touches a ridiculous amount. For Remus, who had been in all kinds of relationships over the years, it came naturally to cook and care for another person. That was just what you did for each other, in his experience. But for Sev it was all new. “I never had anyone cook for me before,” he had admitted to Remus one night, embarrassed with his eyes on the ground.

As Remus was chopping vegetables, humming to himself under his breath, his eye caught a movement in the alley, out past the wards, where they left the rubbish for the binman. He looked up, then went quietly to the window and peered out.

There was a beefy looking young man in a leather jacket, pacing back and forth beyond the garden wall and studying the house from under a thatch of blond hair. He looked too well cared for to be one of the neighborhood toughs, though he imitated their posture and their mannerisms. In his pacing, he kept disappearing and reappearing from behind the greenhouse, which took up a good portion of the back garden wall. Remus knew that no one could look past the wards and concealment charms - all they would see was an empty, abandoned garden and a deserted house; peeling paint, broken windows, the roof half caved in. He watched the stranger warily for a few minutes but he had a pretty good idea of who it was. At last with a sigh he went upstairs and put a set of Sev’s old robes on over his clothes, to hide the bump. He went back downstairs slowly, hoping maybe the young man had left, but he was still there. Remus checked his wand in his pocket, and, wondering if he was doing the right thing, stepped out into the snowy frozen garden, and down the path he took every day to the greenhouse. He put his hand on the latch of the back gate. It opened with a creak.

The young man in the alley startled back, his face white, and put his fists in front of him. For a moment Remus thought he was going to punch him. He resisted the urge to reach for his wand.

“State your name and business,” Remus said crisply, to the trembling young man who looked out at him warily from behind his fists. “And be quick about it.”

The boy lowered his hands slowly. “Dudley Dursley,” he said in a tremulous voice. “And I want to help.”

*********

Remus ushered Dudley into the house and sat him down at the kitchen table. Dudley sat without speaking, rubbing his hands and blowing on them to warm them up. Remus handed him a cup of tea and sat down opposite him.

“So Dudley,” he began, stirring sugar into his own tea.

“I want to help,” said Dudley again.

“You…. that’s very noble of you.”

“I mean it. I’m going mental in that house all day.”

“You are helping,” said Remus gently. “You’re keeping the families that are staying with you safe. You’re supporting your parents.”

“I’m not doing anything!” Dudley’s voice rang out, loud and angry. His big beefy fist slammed the table. “Harry’s out there, fighting Him, every day, and I’m stuck in the house, doing nothing. I tell you, I’m going mental. Dad’s just… drinking all the time and Mum’s just…. worried all the time….. And I want to fucking do something.”

“How did you find this house?”

“Mum showed me where it was, once. She said you were sweet on my aunt. You know, Harry’s mum,” said Dudley with a sly grin.

Remus looked Dudley over, tried to get a measure of him. He wondered what possible role this Muggle boy could play. He seemed both cynical and naive to Remus. He seemed…..like he still had a lot of growing up to do.

“That wasn’t me,” said Remus quietly “That was….the other man that lives here. I was friends with your Aunt Lily, though. Good friends.”

Dudley looked him over, a sharp look in his small eyes. “I remember you,” he said. “You’re Mr. Moony.”

Remus smiled at him. “That’s right.”

“You used to come round and bring Harry sweets and take him to the play park.”

“Yes,” said Remus. When Harry had been a toddler, Remus had visited him at the Dursley's a few times, brought him small gifts, taken him on little outings. Then Dumbledore had found out and put a stop to it.

“Mum would never let me go. Said you were dirty and….and strange.”

“Well what do you think?”

“Think?” Dudley said, as if he were being asked to do something unfamiliar.

“Yes,” said Remus with a smile.

Dudley looked him up and down critically. “I think you're all right.”

“Thank you,” said Remus.

“I always wanted to go along to the playpark.”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t come.”

“ ‘sall right,” said Dudley. “It was a long time ago, innit? Where’s the other bloke? The one who was sweet on Harry’s mum?”

“He’s at work.”

“What’re you doing here then?” asked Dudley.

“He’s protecting me,” said Remus. “Keeping me safe. As your family is doing for the families staying with you. Listen, Dudley, you can’t tell anyone that you’ve seen me, all right?”

“In hot water then, are you?” asked Dudley with a grin.

“A bit, yeah,” said Remus.

“Coz you're fighting against You Know Who,” said Dudley, with enthusiasm, and Remus smiled at how he had picked up the wizarding jargon. “Like Harry.”

“Yes.”

“That’s why I’m here,” said Dudley. “I want to fight him too. Please, Mr. Moony? I can’t just sit around that house any longer. I’ll go mad.”

“Well,” said Remus, running a hand through his thinning hair. “I appreciate the offer, Dudley, I really do. And I’m sure we can use your help. But…...well, it’s going to take some planning. We have to think this through, figure out the proper role for you.” Though actually, he couldn’t really imagine anything that this Muggle boy could do. Certainly, he couldn’t imagine anything that wouldn’t put him in severe danger. His mind flashed to Sev, saying “Everyone’s useful if you know how to use them.” That had been months ago, by now.

“I don’t want to wait,” said Dudley. “I can’t. I’m going nutters, I tell you.”

A creak of a board from the lounge and a pale, slender figure was in the kitchen. Remus had assumed that Draco was upstairs, but clearly he had been in the adjoining room and had heard every word.

The two young men looked each other over warily, sizing each other up. Remus felt the hairs on the back of his own neck prickle slightly from the tension is the room. Dudley balled his fists again as if getting ready for a brawl, though he left them at his sides this time. Draco, tall and imperious, looked down his nose at the other boy as if he could barely be bothered.

“Me too,” said Draco quietly at last. “I’m going nutters too.”

*******

Over the next few weeks Draco and Dudley formed an uneasy alliance. Dudley would come round nearly every day and he and Draco would play cards, or go out in the yard and smoke cigarettes which Dudley brought in from the Muggle world. One afternoon they pinched the remains of the Christmas firewhiskey and holed up in Draco’s room and got drunk. Remus left them to their own devices. He knew they were bored. And scared. So was he.

Remus tended his seedlings in the greenhouse and was encouraged by their growth. The snargaluffs grew quickly until the plants were nearly a foot high, the foliage so lush and thick it hid the dark dirt they were growing in. The hellebore took weeks to germinate, but one morning Remus came out to the greenhouse to find the trays he had planted covered with a fine mist of delicate, star shaped, grey blue seedlings. Sev brought home cuttings for venomous tentacula and devil’s snare. In the basement, Remus started a few trays of amanita spores on damp cardboard. He had never had much of talent for herbology in school, but he was driven by a sense of dire need. If this venture didn’t work out he had no idea how he was going to support himself and his baby. He knew a little bit about gardening from his boyhood - his parents had kept a large garden and orchard when he had been a child, and he knew that most of succeeding at growing things was a matter of paying attention to details, which was something he happened to be good at.

Draco pretty much scorned Remus’ attempts to get him to take an interest in the greenhouse, but Dudley, when he came round, would help Remus weed and water. Remus assumed that he was motivated by boredom, but he appreciated the help. Dudley was a boy of few words, so he wasn’t much for conversation, but he provided a grudging, near silent companionship that Remus found soothing.

Remus fretted over Harry but there wasn’t anything he could do. After the night of the doe and the sword, Harry had once again disappeared somewhere in the world, and made no attempt to contact them. Remus put all the anxiety he felt about this into reading everything he could about horcruxes and the deathly hallows, as well as continuing to delve into the kabbalah. He needed to find a way to destroy the horcrux that was lodged inside Harry. He realized, increasingly, that this was crucial, that in fact, the success of everything else depended on it.

He wasn’t really getting anywhere, though.

The moon came and went. The fifth moon. Remus and Sev apparated again, to the deep woodlands in the mountains above Hogsmeade. With the wolfsbane potion, and Sev, running beside him as a panther the moon was tolerable, it was almost enjoyable. The baby got through fine, though he was getting bigger. After he transformed back, Remus carried a vague memory of a deep heaviness in his gut as he ran through the woods beside the panther.

 _Did the baby transform into a wolf as well?_ Remus wondered. He thought of the sonographic image, the little human growing inside him, the sweetness of the features somehow apparent in the grainy, blurry image. He imagined him transforming into a tiny wolf fetus every month, and shuddered inwardly.

Sev came when he could get away. He brought food, and news of the outside world. Remus cooked. He made filling soups and stews, healthy salads. He even tried his hand at baking. The boys gobbled up his brownies and cookies, but his attempts at bread were a dismal failure. As often as not, Dudley was there for dinner. Sev got on with him improbably well. Remus figured he had a soft spot for the boy, as he was Lily’s nephew.

The news that Sev reported was mostly bad. Voldemort was amassing an army in the north. He had recruited giants and dementors. He was making inferi. Fenrir Greyback had gathered a small battalion of werewolves. There were negotiations with vampires.

Most concerning of all, Voldemort was reaching out to, and successfully recruiting, Muggles. Mostly young, and male, and angry. Filled with hate. They reminded Sev of boys he’d grown up with, boys around here. He could have ended up like them, if it hadn’t been for Lily, and Hogwarts, and his own relentless, driving intellect.

The plan that Voldemort had put into place that night in the barrow was moving forward with alarming speed. It was a bad time in Britain. Although the Muggle world did not really understand what was going on, the gloom that had taken hold of the country was palpable. The dementors, not seen or understood by ordinary people, were nevertheless, felt, as they wound their way through streets and towns. The cold mist that accompanied them was attributed to an unusually grey and gloomy weather pattern in the Muggle news reports. The pace of Muggle killings, attributed at first to random accidents and violence, was picking up to the point that it could no longer be ignored by the Muggle press. There was a general sense of fear in the country. People were being warned to be on the lookout for unusual activity, report strangers in their communities, stay in at night.

Then, in late January, there was a Death Eater raid on a large pop concert in North London, the kind of event attended by masses of pre teen girls who shouted and swooned while their parents waited in the family car to pick them up at the end. Over a hundred people were killed, most of them young teens.

This event put the UK into near lock down. “There is a new terrorist organization in our midst,” the prime minister proclaimed, in a televised speech, his face grave. He wore a black armband, in memory of those who had been killed. “We are at war.”

The problem was the enemy was not apparent. This contributed to the atmosphere of fear and uncertainty that had gripped the country. And, more importantly, it was obvious that the government did not have a handle on the situation. They issued dire warnings about a dangerous new enemy, but did not appear to have any idea who that enemy was, or where it was coming from. The Prime Minister, appearing on television almost every night to report on some new atrocity, to try to rally public support and improve morale, was increasingly pale and thin and worried looking. He was not a reassuring figure.

The violent, anti-government organizations that Voldemort had infiltrated, with the help of Thorfinn Rowle and his uncle, were increasingly popular in this atmosphere of fear and uncertainty. They quickly moved their meeting venues from pubs and small town halls to large auditoriums and sports arenas. And although attacks on Muggle concerts and religious gatherings were becoming commonplace, these skinhead rallies were never attacked.

Voldemort sat in Death Eater meetings and heard these reports with increasing satisfaction. “We must increase the atmosphere of fear,” he stated. “We must encourage them to start fighting each other. I Want Civil War, blood in the streets. Until they reduce their numbers by fighting each other, there is no point in making our presence, and their destiny, known to them!” His eyes glowed bright red in the darkened crypt that smelled of snake.

After the attack on Malfoy Manor, the main Death Eater meetings had been moved to the decrepit dining room in the Riddle House. Sev sat across from Bellatrix in these meetings, on Voldemort’s left. Bellatrix was on his right. Her eyes glittered at Sev from across the table. He knew she was watching him, waiting for him to let down his guard again. She knew he had a secret. He couldn’t afford to let anything slip.

 


	22. Another Visitor

One wintery night at Spinner’s End, Sev sat at the kitchen table with Remus, Dudley and Draco finishing the remains of a ham and chicken pie that Remus had prepared. It was Molly Weasley’s recipe. She had taught it to him years ago, when he had been a young man just learning to fend for himself. The food was delicious but the mood was sombre. Sev had brought the Daily Prophet and was reading bits of it aloud, and editorializing freely.

“Nothing in here at all about that spate of Muggle killings outside Brighton,” said Sev, with irritation as he flipped through the pages impatiently. “Five different families wiped out. Nothing.”

“I saw that on the news," said Dudley. “Bad gas line, they said.”

“The worst killings are always blamed on gas lines, in the Muggle press,” said Remus grimly.

“Seems they’d work on fixing them up,” said Draco dryly.

“No funds,” said Sev. “Government inefficiency. It’s feeding into the general mood of discontent and anti-government rhetoric that’s sweeping the country. Here, look at the headline.” He turned back the page he was reading and showed them the front page.

 **“Muggle Unrest Grows**.” the headline screamed. **“Thousands Gather. Is War Inevitable?** ” The picture was of an anti government rally. Banners waved, thousands of tiny fists were raised, again and again, in protest. The new emblem of the movement, a snake, rising up to strike at a lion, was emblazoned on t-shirts and on placards held by the crowd.

“Arseholes,” opined Dudley.

Remus looked at him sharply. He might have thought Dudley would be drawn to the movement, with its violence and machismo. “You don’t approve then?” he asked.

“It’s in the news every day now, innit?” Dudley replied. “Rallies, riots. Beating up foreigners. Breaking up their windows. But they’re all doing it for That Bastard, really. He’s behind it all.” Dudley looked a bit breathless after delivering this speech. It was the most he had said in weeks.

“Yes,” agreed Remus carefully. “That’s true.”

“It’s just…….” Dudley appeared to be thinking hard. “It’s bullshit, innit? They think they’re standing up for themselves, but really they’re just….being used.”

“I agree,” said Remus.

“Looks like they haven’t given up the search for you,” Draco remarked, turning over the paper. The back page was blazoned with the word **Wanted** in large block letters. Harry’s picture grimaced and winked at them. **Undesirable Number One** was printed across his chest. Below him was a lurid, cartoonish, picture of a werewolf, fangs dripping blood, with the words **Remus Lupin - Danger** printed below.

“Wicked!” said Dudley appreciatively.

“Ta, Dudley,” said Remus, rising and starting to gather the plates. He had taken to wearing Sev’s old wizarding robes around the house, to hide the bump, but it was getting more noticeable, especially when he got up or sat down. He moved to the sink with a slight waddle. “I made brownies for pudding.” He returned with a plate of brownies and had just set it on the table when there was knock at the door.

Sev’s hand was at his wand instantly and when he looked over at Remus he saw that his was already out. Their eyes met. Dudley and Draco had both gone pale. Sev looked up at the sneakoscope he had installed above the door, but it was quiet.

“Your wand, Draco,” said Sev quietly, and Draco started as if he had been hit.

“Stay back, you two,” instructed Remus. “I’ve got the door. Draco cover Sev,” he added as Draco fumbled for his wand.

“Only someone from the Order could get through the wards. It’s most likely one of them,” said Sev. “Don’t make a move unless I say so.” He went to the back door and pulled back the old fashioned flowered curtain.

“Lower your wands,” he said quietly, “But keep them out, for now.” He opened the door a crack. “Who is there?” he called out into the night.

“It is I, Andromeda Tonks. You last saw me when you brought the Muggle born children, Amanda and Gavin and their father, Tim, to shelter in my safe house in November. Can you tell me what they were wearing at that time?”

“Yes,” replied Sev. “They were wearing old t-shirts of mine. I believe one said Slytherin and the other said Puddlemere United.”

He turned to Remus and Draco.“It’s all right, he said. “You can put your wands away.” He opened the door wider and Andromeda Tonks entered followed by Gavin and Amanda and a blast of January air. The children stood in the kitchen shyly.

“Hello you two,” said Remus smiling at them. He held out his arms and then they ran to him and hugged him. He smiled down at them happily. “You both look well,” he said. “Are you all right?’’

They both did look well. They were in proper coats and hats, that fit them, their cheeks rosy from the cold, the scared rabbit look gone from their eyes. They looked up at Remus and nodded solemnly.

“There’s brownies,” he offered. “I’ll get you some milk. Tea, Andromeda? Or whiskey?”

“Both, I think,” she answered, removing her blue leather gloves and handing Sev her cloak, releasing a faint smell of rosemary as she did so. “It’s been a horrible day.”

Andromeda Black Tonks was an imposing figure, tall and regal, her grey hair held back in a bun. She had the same dark eyes as her sister Bellatrix, the same high aristocratic brow that Sirius had had. Under her grey cloak she wore a dress of deep blue velvet, almost a black. She crossed the room and embraced Remus in a tight, brief hug. “I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” she said.

Andromeda and Sirius were first cousins and they had always been close. Remus had known her since he was a boy. At school she had come to watch Sirius play quidditch, or to see him star in the school drama in their sixth year. When they were young men, living in London, Andromeda had the two of them round for dinner on a regular basis. Dora had been a little girl then. When Sirius had gone to Azkaban, they had worked together, unsuccessfully, to try to get his case retried. When Sirius had died, she had been one of the only people who could comfort him.

Now she put a hand on the bump and smiled at him. “Congratulations,” she said. “When is the baby due?”

“I ...er…...I’m not sure, really. Spring. April probably,” said Remus feeling uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to public discussions of his pregnancy. He wasn’t really sure if Dudley knew about the baby. Gavin and Amanda, wide eyed beside him, certainly did not.

“It looks well on you,” said Andromeda kindly. “What are you going to do about the delivery?”

“I… we haven’t worked it out,” admitted Remus. “Poppy was supposed to talk to the male pregnancy expert at St. Mungo’s but we haven’t heard back.”

“It might not be safe,” said Andromeda. “St. Mungo’s is under ministry control, and we all know who they answer to, these days.”

“Indeed,” said Sev.

“I’d go to the centaurs, if I were you,” advised Andromeda.

“The centaurs?” asked Remus.

“The centaurs practice male pregnancy frequently,” replied Andromeda. “They have their own system of magic around it.”

“They’re not known to be particularly friendly to my kind,” replied Remus, cautiously.

Andromeda looked him over critically. “Perhaps they would make an exception,” she said. “You had Dumbledore’s endorsement and protection, and they have always held Dumbledore in high regard. They may be your best option.”

She sat down heavily in a kitchen chair, “Ted’s been picked up by snatcher’s,” she announced.

“Oh Andromeda,” said Remus. “That’s awful.”

“I am sorry, Andromeda,” Sev said. He went to the cupboard, poured out a whiskey and handed it to her. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m on my way to the ministry now,” she said. “I’ve no idea where they’re keeping him, or even if he’s still alive. He sent me a patronus just as they were taking him.” Her eyes were bright, her face determined. She accepted a cup of tea from Remus gratefully.

“I’ve had to break up the safe house,” she said. “I’m going to have to throw my weight around at the ministry, and I just don’t know what’s going to happen. Dora’s up north, dealing with the new Muggle rebellion that His Ugliness is stirring up.” She took a sip of her tea, and looked directly at Sev. “Can you keep Gavin and Amanda?”

Sev looked over at the two children, who were standing close to Remus.

“Yes,” Sev said at once. “Of course. Where’s their father?”

“He’s gone back to his flat. He’s in no immediate danger, and, well, there just aren’t that many places to put people. But Gavin and Amanda can’t go back. They’d just be targeted again.” She took a sip of her tea and looked over at Draco who stood beside Dudley, his wand still in his hand, pale and silent, taking it all in.

“Is that Narcissa’s boy?” she asked.

“Yes,” replied Sev.

“I heard he had gone missing. Narcissa must be frantic.”

“She is,” replied Sev.

“Poor misguided idiot,” said Andromeda.

“Draco,” said Sev. “I don’t believe you’ve ever met your Aunt Andromeda.” Draco’s eyes widened, and he didn’t say a word. Andromeda rose and crossed the room gracefully and offered Draco her hand. He took it and shook it solemnly.

“Your mother and I did not see eye to eye, unfortunately,” she said, “It’s a shame, really. We were close as children. I assume that since you have abandoned the Dark Lord, and are here, with Severus and Remus, that you are working for our cause.”

“Yes,” replied Draco, without hesitation. “I am.”

“And who is this, then?” she asked turning to Dudley.

“That’s Harry’s cousin,” replied Remus. “Lily Potter’s nephew. He is also with us.”

She looked him over critically. Dudley squirmed under her fierce appraising gaze. Andromeda Black Tonks could be a very intimidating woman. “You’re Muggle, aren’t you?” she asked. Dudley swallowed hard and nodded.

“Dora may be able to use the both of you, in her work up north. She’s looking for help, infiltrating the enemy’s ranks, finding out what’s going on. She needs eyes on the ground.”

“I’ll do it,” said Draco at once.

“Me too, miss,” said Dudley.

“It’d be dangerous,”said Andromeda. “You’d have to pose as Muggle,” she added, looking at Draco.

“I want to do something,” said Draco, immediately and Dudley nodded his agreement. “I’m not doing anyone any good, sitting around here all day.”

“I want to fight You Know Who,” said Dudley hoarsely. “That’s why I came round here to begin with.”

Andromeda turned to Sev. “They are trustworthy?” she asked. Sev nodded. “Yes,” he said. “They know everything that goes on in this house, and they have not betrayed me.”

Andromeda turned back to the boys. “I shall send word to Dora,” she said. “She will fetch you when she can. Be prepared to leave at short notice.” She went over and took her cloak from where Sev had hung it on a peg by the door. She put it on, then started pulling on her blue leather gloves. “Thank you for taking Amanda and Gavin,” she said. “I must go try to pry my husband away from those bastards. If we can get away we’re going to leave the country. I can’t risk having him picked up again.” She went over to Remus and hugged him in farewell. Then she kneeled down and pulled Amanda and Gavin close. “Be good, you two,” she whispered. She rose and shook Sev’s hand. “My thoughts are with you,” she said. “May you succeed in all your endeavors.”

And then she was gone, leaving a faint smell of rosemary behind her.

********

After Andromeda left, Sev and Remus took Gavin and Amanda upstairs, to settle them for the night. They seemed glad to be back.

“You won’t send us away again, will you?” asked Amanda, clutching at Remus’ hand as he tucked her in.

Remus looked into her deep brown eyes. “Erm…....I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he confessed. “But you’re here tonight, and safe.”

“We like it here,”declared Gavin decisively.

“You rescued us,” said Amanda. “We should stay with you.”

“All right,” said Sev from where he stood in the doorway, watching Remus and the children.

“We can stay?” said Gavin, “Really?”

“Yes,” said Sev. “Of course.”

“Good,” said Amanda. She put her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. Gavin curled on his side and put his thumb in his mouth. Remus turned out the light.

********

Dudley and Draco were left to do the washing up.

When the kitchen was clean they went out into the greenhouse. There was an old coal stove in a corner of the dilapidated building, with an isinglass window in the door. Remus had cleaned it out and started using it, saving on the need to keep casting warming charms to combat the winter cold. Draco went and placed a shovel of coal in the stove's pot belly, and lit it with his wand.

Both boys watched as the red flames washed over them. “They could do with a house elf around here,” commented Draco dryly. “I never had to light the fire, before.”

“That’s us, mate,” said Dudley with a grin. He had been around wizards long enough by now to get the reference. “We’re the house elves.” He pulled up an old crate and sat down on it, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.  Draco settled in a decrepit wicker arm chair that they had pulled from a pile of old junk a few days before. Dudley pulled a glass flask out of his pocket and tossed it to Draco. “Here,” he said. “Consolation prize.”

Draco unscrewed the flask, took a swallow and winced.

“What is this shit?” he asked Dudley, tears in his eyes.

“Straight Sapphire gin,” Dudley replied “ ‘s ‘Dad’s. He drinks the stuff all day long. He’ll never miss it.”

“Muggle booze,” commented Draco dryly, taking another cautious swig and handing the bottle to Dudley.

“It’s what we’ve got,” Dudley said. “Don’t whinge.” He took a long swallow and passed the bottle back. He lit two cigarettes and handed one to Draco.

They sat in silence passing the bottle and smoking.

“You’re really going?” Draco asked at last.

“Yeah,” said Dudley. “I reckon so. Better’n sitting around this crap town on my arse any longer. How bout you?”

“Yeah,” said Draco. “I haven’t much to lose at this point, anyway.”

“Your life,” pointed out Dudley.

“Yeah, well all I’ve done so far with that is screw it up,” said Draco bitterly.

“Don’t say that,” said Dudley.

“It’s true,” said Draco glumly. The booze was hitting him, loosening his tongue. “Just ask my parents.”

Both boys sat in silence, contemplating the flames.

“If I can help bring down the Great Greasy Git of Darkness it’ll be something, anyway,” said Draco at last. He took another sip of the gin. He was definitely getting drunk.

“Yeah,” said Dudley. “Want to get off?”

“What?” asked Draco, startled.

“You heard me,” said Dudley, his voice gone low. Before Draco quite realized what was happening Dudley was up and hovering  over him where he sat in the rickety wicker chair, leaning into him, his big hands on Draco’s shoulders, his smoky, boozy breath in Draco’s face. The old chair creaked under his weight.

“All right?” breathed Dudley and then his mouth was on Draco’s. Draco felt as if his breath had stopped as Dudley’s lips moved over his. Then gingerly, cautiously, he started moving his own lips in response.

After a few minutes of this Draco pushed at Dudley’s sternum, breaking the kiss. “I’m not gay,” he said.

“It’s not gay,” said Dudley. “It’s just to get off. Don’t you want to get off?”

“I……..” Draco said. “Yeah…..but…..”

But Dudley’s mouth was back on his, his lips incredibly soft and full. His tongue was pushing into Draco’s mouth and his chest was pressing in and Draco was breathing hard and kissing him back.

“My mates and I do it all the time,” said Dudley, starting to unbutton Draco’s shirt. He put a knee up, between Draco’s legs and leaned in. “It’s just to feel good,” he said. “Don'tcha want to feel good?”

“It….feels …...good,” said Draco, his breath rasping. His body didn’t feel quite like his own but it definitely wanted what Dudley had to give. He reached up and pulled Dudley’s weight toward him. Dudley’s strong arms wrapped around his chest and squeezed. Draco was transported by the sheer physical force of him, his shoulders broad and powerful, the muscles in his arms bulging, his cock, pushing now, against Draco’s stomach. ‘It’s…..all…...right,” he gasped out and they didn’t talk any more after that.

 


	23. The Forest of Dean Again

Remus and Sev were in the greenhouse. It was late, and snowing heavily. Gavin and Amanda had been tucked into beds in the small bedroom. Draco and Dudley were camped out in the sitting room, knapsacks packed, waiting for the signal to join Nymphadora and the resistance up north. Their anxiety and restlessness were such that it was a relief to be out in the greenhouse, away from them.

Sev was helping Remus to prune the venomous tentacula seedlings. This was a two person job, because venomous tentacula seedlings did not like to be pruned. They tended to squirm. And nip at fingers. Though the plants were still small, their teeth were already razor sharp. Remus had nearly lost his the tip of his left index finger earlier in the day, and had decided to ask Sev for help.

The old coal stove with it’s isinglass window was set in the center of the greenhouse. It glowed a fiery red, its flames casting a warm light, setting the dark green leaves of the plants in sharp relief. The shadows of the two men, quietly working, danced upon the glass of the big windows, which held the black night beyond at bay.

Sev liked the smell of the coal. It reminded him of his childhood, in a comforting way. His grandfather had run that stove out here, when he had been a boy. Sev liked being out here, with Remus, in the quiet night, smelling the damp earth and the growing things, with the snow falling softly outside.

Sev had a set of tongs that Remus had improvised from a couple of kitchen spoons, magically joined at the top, and he was using them to hold back the pincers of the venomous tentacula seedlings, while Remus, wearing his dragon hide gloves, accomplished the pruning with a set of sharp shears. The plants writhed and pulsed, expressing their frustration by taking on a purplish hue.

There was a fluttering motion above them, and they both looked up sharply. Through the glass, a silver stag emerged, as if it was diving through the surface of a pool of water, high above their heads. It cast a silvery glow about the enclosed space, replacing the orange light of the coal stove.

“James,” breathed Remus, at once, cast back twenty years, to a different time, at the sight of the stag.

“Potter?” asked Sev, incredulous. “But…...he’s dead.”

Remus shook himself. “No,” he corrected, as the ghostly stag circled the room. “Of course not. It’s Harry’s.”

The stag came to a rest in the middle of the room. “Help,” it said in Harry’s voice. “Ron’s hurt. And Hermione. I don’t know what to do. We’re where we were before. In the Forest of Dean. Please come.”

The stag disappeared in a shower of sparks. Remus and Sev looked at each other a long moment. They put down their garden tools. Remus removed his dragonhide gloves. Sev brushed his hands. They left the greenhouse, walked out the short path to the back gate, through the thickly falling snow, and apparated to the Forest of Dean.

**********

The forest was pitch black, and very cold. The snow was falling here as well, even more thickly than at Spinner’s End, muffling all sound.

“What do we do now?” Sev asked, but Remus knew. He put his hand on his belly for a moment, focussed on the baby, his baby, safe and warm in it’s watery world. “ _Expecto Patronum,”_ he said, and a large silvery dog leapt from his wand. “Find Harry,” he told it hoarsely. “Bring us to him.” And the patronus bounded away, lighting up the snowy woods as it went.

When it disappeared the woods were completely dark again. Sev stood there in the cold, with Remus beside him, trying not to mind that Remus’ patronus was obviously Sirius. His patronus was still Lily, after all, or it had been the last time he had cast it. Remus’ arms went around him, tentatively, and Sev knew he had sensed his upset and the reason why. Remus shivered and Sev pulled him close, trying to warm him up. The bump pushed into him, a reassuring presence, anchoring them together. Sev put his hand on it but the baby was quiet. He kissed Remus and he wanted him, unreasonably, given the situation they were in. Danger everywhere, Ron and Hermione hurt, Harry asking for their help. He held onto Remus, trying to shield him from the thickly falling snow. The woods were dead quiet, the snow muffling any sound. They waited.

After about twenty minutes, Sev saw a faint glow approaching them through the trees and the dog patronus was back, followed by Harry’s stag. The woods were suddenly aglow with silvery light from the two patroni, the snowflakes in the air reflecting the light like thousands and thousands of tiny shimmering prisms.

The dog returned to Remus, who stood holding out his wand as his patronus disappeared back into it. The stag started back the way it had come, beckoning them to follow with a gesture of it’s majestic, antlered head.

*********

It wasn’t far. Harry stood in a small copse of trees, waiting for them, his wand tip glowing.

“You brought _him,_ ” Harry said to Remus, in greeting, looking suspiciously at Sev.

“We’re working together, Harry,” Remus said gently.

“I don’t like it,” Harry said.

“Harry, Severus is on our side. He’s in the Order. You must believe me.”

“Why should I?”

“He rescued you from the Dark Lord at Christmas. He conjured the fire golem and sheltered you in his home. Besides, he’s the one with the knowledge to really help you if someone’s truly hurt.”

“Someone _is_ hurt,” said Harry. “They both are.” He looked at Remus and Sev a long minute, then he turned and led them both through the protective shield surrounding his camp. They entered a small clearing where a shabby tent glowed with an eerie blue light. They ducked through the flap. Inside, it smelled of cats. The light was low, mostly provided by a blue flame, flickering in a jar. They heard Ron moaning from one of the bunks against the wall. Hermione sat wrapped in a blanket in an armchair, her eyes closed, her face pallid. Harry was also very pale, his green eyes looked dark in the low light. His scar stood out starkly against his white skin.

“Are you hurt?” Remus asked Harry at once, looking him over.

“No,” said Harry. “Not really, no,” and Remus saw the bloodstains on his shirt. ”It’s them,” he said, gesturing at his friends. “Hermione got splinched and Ron’s been hit in the head. He’s got a nasty gash, and they’ve both lost a lot of blood, and I don’t know how to get Hermione's arm back on right. I’m not much good at healing spells and I didn’t know what else to do,” said Harry, his voice getting higher and more hysterical as he spoke and Remus could tell he was near tears. He put an arm around Harry’s shoulders and Harry buried his head in Remus’ chest, briefly.

“They got hurt trying to help me,” he said, looking at Remus, guilt and fear written across his face. “It’s my fault. I’m to blame. I wish it had been me, instead.”

“What happened?” asked Remus.

“We went to see Xenophilius Lovegood and…..and it was a trap,” said Harry.

“Xenophilius?” said Remus, confused. “Why in Merlin’s name did you go to see him?”

“We thought he might know something…...about the hallows,” Harry said. “But….Luna’s kidnapped. I guess they took her off the train at Christmas. And he must have owled the ministry - thinking- thinking he could trade us for her or something, I don’t know, and well, it was a disaster, the whole place exploded, we barely got out of there.”

Sev was at the bunk bed, looking Ron over with his lighted wand, peering into his eyes, checking his pulse. Remus went over to Hermione. It was pretty bad. Her right arm was attached, but at an obviously wrong angle. There was a large blood soaked bandage at her side, where she’d apparently lost a chunk of skin. She opened her eyes and smiled weakly at Remus when he approached her. “Hello professor,” she whispered hoarsely.

“We should get them to Spinner’s End,” said Sev. Remus knew he had been stockpiling healing potions there, ever since the debacle at Godric’s Hollow. “I think Ron’s just got a bad concussion.” He glanced over at Hermione’s arm. “That’s going to take some effort to put right.” He looked at Harry, who stiffened defensively. Remus wondered if it had been a mistake to bring Sev. “Potter,” Sev said. “Can you pack up the tent and apparate there after us?”

“Yes,” Harry whispered.

“I’ll adjust the wards to let you through.” He turned to Remus. “You take Hermione,” he said, and Remus nodded. _“Locomotor Corpi,_ ” Sev said, and Ron rose, ghostlike from the bunk. Sev wafted him out the tent flap, and a moment later, they heard the pop of apparition out past the protective circle.

“Can you walk?” Remus asked Hermione. She nodded weakly and he took her by the arm. Leaning on him heavily, she stood.

“See you in a few minutes at Spinner’s End,” Remus said to Harry. “You’d best apparate under the cloak if you can. You still have it?” Harry nodded. Remus squeezed his shoulder with his free hand.”It’s going to be all right,” he said.

He helped Hermione out of the tent and into the snowy woods past the wards. Holding tightly to her arm, he concentrated on the now familiar alley way outside Spinner’s End. _When had that started to feel like home?_ he wondered, and clinging tightly to Hermione’s arm, felt the tight squeeze of apparition taking them away.

********

Sev and Remus got Ron and Hermione settled in the sitting room, displacing Draco and Dudley who sat together uneasily at the kitchen table.They laid Ron out on the sitting room sofa and magicked the spindly rose colored armchair into a cot for Hermione. Sev located healing potions and a Sanguanarius Serum to replenish the blood the two victims had lost, then set about repairing Ron’s head wound with his wand. Remus, who had knowledge of magical first aid from his youthful training with the Order, was able to get Hermione’s arm reattached properly, using several spells he remembered from those long ago days. She looked at him gratefully as her arm clunked back into place. “You’ll have to teach me those, Professor,”she murmurred. “When I’m better.” The wound in her side would take longer to heal, but Remus cleaned it and wrapped it carefully, applying a healing salve which Severus supplied. Sev made her drink the healing potion and the rust colored Sanguinarius Serum, which, Remus knew, had an unpleasant metallic taste. She made a face but drank it down, then laid her head on the pillow and was soon asleep.

Remus brought a pile of bloodstained towels into the kitchen just as Harry entered, in a whirl of snow. Harry’s eyes grew wide as he saw Dudley seated at the kitchen table with Draco.

“Hi Harry,” said Dudley, looking at the ground, somewhat sheepishly.

“Dudley,” said Harry in amazement. “What’re you doing here?”

“Getting ready to fight You Know Who,” said Dudley. He looked up and met Harry’s eye. “Same as you.” And he offered Harry his hand.

Harry took it warily, and Dudley smiled at him hopefully. “I get it now,” Dudley said. “I hate him, too.”

Harry gave him a half smile and put his hands to his face as if this was all just too much for him to take in. “How’re Ron and Hermione?” he asked Remus, turning away from his two old enemies, who sat together at the kitchen table looking as if they’d rather be almost anywhere else.

“They’re better,” said Remus, smiling at him. “Come in and see.”


	24. The Pensieve

It was a peaceful day at Spinner’s End. The sitting room was turned into a kind of hospital wing, where Ron and Hermione dozed and drank their potions, with Harry watching anxiously beside them. Draco and Dudley took charge of Gavin, and retreated with him to the greenhouse where there was room for him to run and jump. Amanda attached herself to Remus and ghosted after him as he cared for the injured and cooked in the kitchen. She was a good helper, quiet and attentive, her eyes wide, taking in all that was happening.

When Remus went out to the greenhouse about noon to tend to the plants he found that Dudley and Draco had been busy. They’d cleared out the unused, back half of the large structure and attached a couple of primitive bunks to the wall, using old boards they’d found lying about and, Remus was sure, a good dose of magic. They were using a bunch of old wooden boxes and some more boards, to create a divider, walling off the crude bunkhouse they'd made at about waist height. The coal stove glowed cherry red. Gavin swung from a rope swing they had attached to the high central beam.

“You keep taking in new people,” Draco said to Remus, dryly. “You’re going to need some place to put them.”

By evening Hermione was up and about and Ron was able to sit up groggily and drink some broth. Draco and Dudley stayed camped out in the greenhouse. “I’ve no desire at all to sit around socializing with Potty and the Weasel,” Draco said, disdainfully. Dudley too, seemed relieved to avoid being forced to interact with his cousin. Remus made an enormous pot of bean and bacon soup, and a tray of cornbread. Sev arrived home with several Hogwarts issue squashy purple sleeping bags. They reminded Remus painfully of his own youth. He and his friends had nicked several similar ones from school, and they had been kept in the attic of his parents house for use during marauderly sleep overs of long ago.

“I need to speak to Potter,” Sev announced, stepping out of the floo and depositing the sleeping bags on the sitting room floor. He held a bulky, heavy looking box in his other hand. “Alone,” he added, looking at Ron and Hermione meaningfully.

“He’s not going anywhere alone with you,” growled Ron, with surprising energy, from where he lay on the sofa with a huge bandage around his head.

Sev looked around the room, where three teens glared at him with open hostility.

“Remus can come,” Sev declared, and headed for the stairs. “Come along, Potter, I’m not looking forward to this any more than you are.”

*********

In the box was Dumbledore’s pensieve.

Sev set the pensieve in the middle of the bed. Remus and Harry sat down on either side of it. They watched, solemnly as Sev got out his wand and started pulling wispy, grey strands of memory out of the side of his head. He placed them carefully in the stone basin. He poked at it occasionally and images would swirl up from the grey mist of memories for a second and then melt back in; a young girl flying from a swing, looking beautiful and free, James Potter, handsome and dashing, Dumbledore, looking like an old man, worried and bent, Remus as a teenager, followed by Harry himself, as an eleven year old boy.

At last Sev straightened and looked at Harry. “What I am about to show you is highly personal. Remus knows most of it all ready. I know you will share this with Granger and Weasley, and well, that can’t be helped. But I would appreciate it deeply if you would refrain from telling anyone else.”

Harry looked at Sev and nodded once. Sev took Remus’ hand, and then took a deep breath in, as if he were about to dive into cold water. Remus was reminded, vividly, of Harry diving into the forest pool to retrieve Gryffindor’s sword. Sev and Harry looked each other in the eye and then, wordlessly they all lowered their heads into the grey mist.

Remus knew it all, of course, but seeing it in the pensieve, through Sev’s eyes, was heartbreaking. Lily as a young girl, in all her transcendent beauty. Sev’s loneliness as a child at Spinner’s End, his father’s bitterness, his mother’s rage. Lily offering him a bridge of friendship and hope. James and Sirius, so clever, so cruel. Remus, standing aside, doing nothing to stop them. Remus saw the fear and uncertainty in his own face, as Sev remembered it, and he cringed.

The memories went on. Ambition, bad choices, the prophecy, the betrayal. Sev begging Voldemort to spare Lily, and his cold refusal. Fear and regret so profound that it was completely immobilizing. Dumbledore, offering an opportunity for some kind of moral salvation, if not for happiness. Dumbledore offering Sev a place in the world, a life he could live with. The ring and the curse, and Dumbledore asking Sev to perform the ultimate service, to midwife his own death. The sword of Gryffindor, the night of the silver doe and the pool. The three of them walked through it all, Sev holding onto Remus’ hand in a grip like a vise, Harry beside them.

At last it was over and they rose through the wispy tendrils of memory, which seemed to Remus to cling to them as they ascended, until they were standing again in the cold bedroom. It felt, suddenly, unbearably, homey and familiar. Harry was looking into Sev’s face. They were both very pale. Sev staggered slightly against Remus, who grabbed onto his elbow, steadying him.

“Professor….I…...” Harry said at last.

“Go now, Potter,” said Sev hoarsely. “l…..I’ll see you tomorrow. Go.”

And Harry left without another word.

Sev turned to Remus who put his arms around him. Sev was shaking. Remus led him over to the bed and lay down beside him. Sev did not cry. He lay there and trembled, while Remus wrapped himself around him, trying to warm him, and stroked his head.

“I don’t even want to fuck,” said Sev at last, with despair.

“Ssh,” said Remus, kissing his temple, “It’s all right.”

“Is that what love is then?” asked Sev.

“What?”

“You want the other person there, even though you’re not having sex?”

Remus smiled at that. “That’s as good a definition as any I’ve ever heard,” he said, and petted Sev’s hair so all the short hairs lined up, and kissed him again.

**********

  
Harry heard low voices as he descended the stairs. Ron and Hermione, talking. He hesitated in the darkened kitchen, then, quietly as he could, opened the back door and slipped out into the garden. He wanted a few minutes alone.

It was very cold. The snow had stopped and high above, the stars were hot bright pinpoints in the clear, clear sky. In the greenhouse at the far end of the garden a low reddish light burned. Dudley and Draco were sleeping out there, Harry knew. He stood and shivered and looked at the stars, struggling to understand the memories that Snape had just shared with him, and what it all meant.

Snape, in love with his mother. Snape and him, on the same side. Snape in love with his mother. His mother as a young girl, so beautiful, so full of life. Of course Snape was in love with her, any one would be. James, his father, a cold hearted bully. Sirius, so handsome and arrogant - gone. Dumbledore, wise and patient - gone. Lupin, careful and scared. Voldemort, cold and terrifying.

Harry kept trying to make sense of it. He wished he had a pensieve himself, to sort it out. Snape, in love with his mother. That was really the only new information. Everything else he’d all ready been told. The journey through the pensieve had merely been the proof.

Snape in love with his mother.

But now he was with Lupin? Harry thought of the two of them, holding hands as they walked through the memories. Leaving them together, in that chilly bedroom, their bedroom. Snape calling the other man Remus. Lupin, holding him up, clutching his elbow as if it were a lifeline. And there was something different about Lupin, he had grown…..fat. The whole way he moved was different, more careful, slower, top heavy. The loose robes he wore couldn’t hide the change in his body. Harry couldn’t imagine what it meant.

Snape in love with his mother. Snape and his mother growing up together in this grimy town. Best mates, like him and Hermione. His mother, knowing Snape’s secrets, his hopes and fears. And Snape, knowing hers.

Harry wondered if she’d ever been in this house. Had she come over for tea? Done her homework with Snape in the parlour? The same parlour where he and his friends were camped out now in front of the fireplace?

She was _his_ mother. He felt as if part of her had been stolen, violated by Snape.

Snape as a young boy. Dark haired and intense, alone. An outsider, like Harry himself. Harry thought of Snape under the sorting hat, the mouth opening wide, the harsh, imperious voice calling out “ _ **Slytherin!”**_

 _“I made a different choice,_ ” thought Harry fiercely. _“I chose Gryffindor._ ”

The door to the greenhouse opened, a slice of reddish light cut across the newly fallen snow. A dark figure emerged, and the door shut. It was Draco. He crossed the yard, and stood beside Harry. He took out a pack of cigarettes, and offered him one.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t smoke,” he said.

Draco laughed at that. He lit his fag with his wand, the tip glowing orange for a few seconds. He inhaled deeply then blew out a cloud of grey smoke into the frosty air. “ _You,_ of all people should smoke, Potter. What have you got to lose?”

Harry shrugged. “All right,” he said. Draco handed him a cigarette, and Harry lit it with his blackthorn wand. He had tried smoking a few times. Fred and George had insisted on teaching him and Ron the basics at one point, and instituted a series of lessons on the roof of Gryffindor Tower. At least he didn’t embarrass himself by choking. He exhaled and looked up at the stars. Of all the strange things that had happened today, standing here smoking with Draco Malfoy was perhaps the strangest of all.

“You don’t think I’m going to make it then?” he asked the other boy at last.

“ _I_ don’t know, Potter,” said Draco disdainfully. “It’s not like I lie awake at night, rooting for you. But, I don’t envy you.” Draco shuddered. “You’re the most wanted man in England. Ten thousand galleons on your head. The Dark Lord wants you dead.”

They stood and smoked. The night was very quiet and the smoke billowed in grey clouds in the frosty air. Somewhere on the streets of the town a car honked twice.

“He wants me dead, as well…..” Draco said, looking up at the stars.

“I guess we have that in common, then,” said Harry with a brief bitter laugh, and then he did embarrass himself by choking on the smoke.

Draco thumped him on the back.

“It’s different,” said Draco, when Harry had stopped choking. “He _really_ wants you dead. It’s his top priority.”

“Dead is dead,” said Harry, thinking of Sirius, gone forever. Of his beautiful mother, who he only knew through the memories of others.

“I sat in those meetings for months,” said Draco. “I was terrified the whole time, sure he was going to kill me, kill my family. He was just waiting for me to slip up, you know? I watched as he killed, got others to kill. I knew my turn was coming.

“I got special attention, you see, because of my family. And he could tell that I was ambitious. He was training me up, trying to harden me, to turn me into one of his elite. And of course my father just encouraged it. He couldn’t have been more pleased when That Psychopath singled me out for his favor.

“When I failed to kill Dumbledore - well, the Dark Lord was vicious. I knew he was out to get me, just keeping me around, you know, for his own entertainment. Waiting for the most cruel moment, to cast the final blow.” Draco threw his cigarette into the fresh snow of the yard, where it hissed and went out. Harry did the same.

“But you got out,” said Harry.

“Snape got me out,” said Draco. “It was going to be that night. The Dark Lord was setting me up. I was going to have to…..to kill,” said Draco, and paused. “I never have,” he went on. “Whatever you think of me, Potter, I’m not….that. Snape knew. He knew what was coming. He convinced me to leave and brought me here.”

“And now what? You’re with the Order?”

Draco snorted. “No,” he said. “Not that.” He took out two more cigarettes, lit them and handed one to Harry. He inhaled deeply, and blew the smoke out into the frosty air. “I took an unbreakable vow, though,” he said. “To protect the secrets of this house. And I’m going up north. To spy. I’m going to do what I can, to fight against The Great Dark Git.”

Harry looked up at the stars. The nicotine was hitting him. He felt slightly high, and slightly nauseous, and completely exhausted.

“And you’ve been living here, with Snape and Lupin?”

“Yeah.”

“And they’re like…...what?...... A couple?”

“They’ve got it bad for each other,” said Draco. “It’s pretty pathetic. Lupin is pregnant, you know.”

“What?”

Draco shrugged. “You grew up with the Muggles. But it happens sometimes, in the wizarding world.”

“How is that even….possible?”

“Magic, Potter,” said Draco dryly. “I think you’ve heard of it. You do believe in it, don’t you?”

Harry ignored his sarcasm. “Pregnant?…..like…..a baby?”

Draco snorted. “Yeah.”

“I knew he looked different,” said Harry.

“Observant, you are.”

“Shut up,” said Harry.

“You shut up,” said Draco, but there was no hostility in it. He took a final drag of his cigarette and threw it into the snow. Harry did the same. Draco headed back to the greenhouse without another word. Harry watched him go, watched the slice of red light appear and disappear as the door opened and shut. Then he turned and went back into the welcoming warmth of the kitchen.

 **********

Remus lay beside Sev and gentled his forehead until his ragged breathing slowed and he was asleep. He thought about all he had seen in the pensieve, about the life Sev had lived and the choices he had made. About the strange ways their paths had crossed over the years. About all the loss, and the sadness, and the strange sense of solace they had found in each other. Both their lives had been shattered completely on that same tragic day long ago. Now they had found love and comfort in each other's arms.

Sev hadn’t shown Harry anything about the horcrux that was lodged within him. That information still had to be shared, at some point. Remus wondered when that time would be.

At last he slipped out of the warm bed to check the house. He crossed the landing and opened the door to the other bedroom, to look in on Amanda and Gavin. Gavin lay with his butt in the air, peacefully sleeping, a slight wheeze coming from his nose, but Amanda was at the window, looking down at the snowy yard. Remus went over to the window. He stood beside her and put an arm around her.

Down in the yard, Harry and Draco were smoking and talking. Remus watched them for a few moments, quietly, his arm around Amanda.

“They’re smoking,” she said at last.

“Yes,” said Remus. “They are.”

“Smoking’s bad,” she said. “They shouldn’t smoke.”

“You’re right,” said Remus. “But there’s a war on you know. They are both in considerable danger. So it’s probably okay if they smoke, for now.”

Amanda sighed and snuggled into Remus, right against the bump. “Are you going to have a baby?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Remus smiling down at her, “I am.”

“Boy or girl?” she demanded.

 “Boy,” said Remus, and Amanda made a face. “I hate boys,” she said.

“Well maybe you'll like this one,” he said. “He’s going to be very little at first.”

“It’s magic, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes, Amanda,” said Remus. “It is.”

“What are you going to name him?” Amanda asked.

“We haven’t decided yet," said Remus. “Maybe you can help us choose a name. Would you like that?”

“Okay,” said Amanda. They stood at the window and watched as the two boys threw their fag ends into the snow and went back inside. “Let’s get you back to bed,” said Remus. “It’s very late.” He tucked Amanda in and made a final circuit of the house, turning down lights, checking locks and wards. And it was only as he was slipping into bed, beside Severus’ warm, sleeping form that he realized he had automatically included Sev when he had talked to Amanda about naming the baby.

*********

In the greenhouse the only light came from the red flames, flickering low now through the isinglass window of the stove. Dudley was asleep on the lower bunk. Draco went over to him, dug his hands into the warmth of his sleeping bag, under his t-shirt, where the skin on his belly was smooth and radiating heat.

“Dursley,” he whispered. “Budge up.”

“Geroff, said Dudley frowsily, half awake. “You’re freezing.” He grabbed Draco’s wrists and tussled him until the other boy was laying underneath his considerable bulk.

“Warm me up, then,” said Draco, and reached up to kiss him. His mouth tasted of smoke and frosty night air and Dudley kissed him back.


	25. The Washing Up

Harry woke the next morning with the taste of old cigarettes in his mouth. He was on the floor, in one of the squashy purple sleeping bags in front of the cold grate. The carpet he lay on had a pattern of swirling roses in pinks, oranges and reds. When he rolled over onto his stomach a little puff of dust rose from the fibers.

He lay there and stared at the cold hearth, lost in thought, trying to understand all that he had seen in the pensieve the previous night. He felt incredibly weary, as if his brain could not hold any new information. The way ahead seemed as murky as ever. Three horcruxes to find and destroy, and he had no real idea where they were, or even what they were. Then there was the elder wand, the deathstick, the tantalizing promise of an invincible tool that might give him the edge he needed over Voldemort. But he had no idea where to look for it, or whether it was even real. Murky images flitted through his mind; Voldemort, traveling in a foreign land, searching for something. The blond laughing face of the young thief. They were both after the elder wand, Harry was more certain than ever.

He missed Ginny. He thought of her eyes, her bold look, her flowery smell. He wondered sadly, if he would survive all this to see her again.

There was an old grandfather clock in a corner, it’s ticking loud in the quiet room. It wheezed out eight tired chimes. A few minutes later a rolled up sock came sailing across the room, landing squarely on Harry’s head. He turned to see Ron, propped up on an elbow on the sofa where he had spent the time since they had been here, looking more lively than Harry had yet seen him. The awful pallor was gone from his face, and he looked almost back to his usual self. “Oi, Harry, you awake?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, squinting at him, rubbing the back of his head, and reaching about for his glasses.

Hermione also stirred, in the easy chair that had been magicked into a cot for her. She ran her fingers through her curls, puffing them out so that they made a kind of halo around her head. She yawned and stretched hugely.

“Better?” asked Harry, hopefully.

“Much,” she said. “What did professor Snape want with you last night?”

So Harry went over all of it for Ron and Hermione. He included the additional information he’d gleaned from his conversation with Malfoy. They sat there, flabbergasted and listened to his tale. When he had finished telling them the small room resounded with silence. The clock ticked loudly.

“Snape and…..your Mum?” said Ron at last.

Harry shuddered.

“I think it’s kind of romantic,” said Hermione, in a small voice.

Both boys looked at her with disbelief.

“Trust me, Hermione,” said Harry. “It’s not.”

“And Professor Lupin is pregnant?”

Harry nodded glumly.

“I think that's kind of romantic, also,” she said.

“No Hermione,” said Ron fervently. “It isn’t.”

The door creaked open. Amanda entered the room, wearing a flowery apron that was noticeably too large for her, followed by Gavin who rang a large old fashioned dinner bell with gusto. Both children were pink cheeked. Amanda had flour on her nose. “Breakfast is ready,” she announced. “It’s pancakes.”

************

Severus left the warm kitchen at Spinner’s End, filled with the laughter and chatter of the assembled children and teens, his belly full of pancakes and coffee, and he felt strangely lighthearted. He couldn’t even begin to fathom why. He supposed it was a relief, getting all that off his chest, with Potter. He supposed he liked having them all there, tucked behind the wards at Spinner’s End, safe, where he knew no one could get to them. He had spent months listening to Remus constantly fretting about the whereabouts of Harry, but Sev realized he himself had been anxious about the same thing, though he wouldn’t have admitted it. Now, for today, Harry was safe, Draco was safe, Gavin and Amanda were safe, Remus and the baby were safe. He knew it wasn’t going to last, but it was a momentary reprieve.

And he always felt better after spending the night with Remus. After a lifetime of loneliness, to wake up in his boyfriend’s arms, feel the baby kicking in it’s watery world, smooch lazily in the early morning light, drink coffee together before the sun was properly up - these small rituals and intimacies filled him up more than he ever would have expected they would.

He apparated from Spinner’s End to the Leaky Cauldron, and went through the portal. Diagon Alley was more dreary than ever. The streets were filled with grey wintery slush. More windows were boarded up. More posters of Harry and Remus, their faces magically moving, leered from every abandoned storefront. There were Dementors at either end of the alley, easily picked out because there were hardly any people on the street. An old woman, her feet wrapped in rags, lay begging in the boarded up doorway of Eeylops Owl Emporium. “Muggle born, am I,” she crooned, seeing Sev. “Please help, sir. Any coin will do.” Sev dug in his pocket for a sickle, her stench rising up to meet his nostrils as he bent to hand her the coin. Her ragged thank yous followed him, echoing down the empty street as he hurried toward Gringott's.

Even the wizarding bank seemed under siege. A dementor was guarding the entrance. People were hurrying through their transactions as quickly as possible, not looking around or meeting anybody’s eye. Sev had been coming here all his life. He was accustomed to the large marbled room, lined with dark counters, filled with the hum and bustle of wizarding folk as they went about their business transactions, got their errands done, ran into friends and acquaintances. The high ceilinged room usually echoed with soft voices and murmurred laughter, the click of heels on the marble floor. Now all that was gone.

He took a cart to his vault, and retrieved a good percentage of the gold that lay within. Sev was not rich, but he was a saver, and there was a substantial pile. Then, praying that the privacy statutes of the goblins were still being honored, and that this transaction would not be reported to the ministry, he went to the window and changed half of the money for Muggle cash.

Back on the street, he turned down Knockturn alley, to an elderly locksmith who owed him a favor. There he purchased a magical lock box, with a key that could be charmed to open only for specific individuals. It had an extra charm on it that turned it invisible with a single wand tap. These tasks accomplished, he hurried through the depressing streets back to the Leaky Cauldron, where he took the Floo portal to Hogwarts.

**********

At Hogwarts Sev hurried to his first class. He was running late, of course. He’d missed breakfast in the Great Hall, an increasingly frequent occurrence. Minerva, hurrying to her own class amid the rush of students, gave him a raised eyebrow. He knew he would have to meet her before lunch at their fourth floor bathroom.

The morning was tedious; first year potions, then fifth years. By the time lunch came Sev’s good mood from earlier in the day had vanished and he felt harried and irritable. As he hurried through the halls, against the flood of students chattering their way toward the Great Hall for lunch he wondered what Minerva had to tell him.

“You were wanted last night, Severus,” she said, when he arrived. He was winded and his armpits felt damp.

“I…...I was at home,” he said. “Spinner’s End. What happened?”

“Oh, nothing serious,” Minerva said. “Some Slytherin fifth years had got their hands on some firewhiskey and were getting a bit rowdy in the astronomy tower. I covered for you,” she said. “But you’re headmaster, Severus. You need to be here when things come up.”

Sev didn’t really know what to say. “Thank you, Minerva,” he said at last. “I have my reasons for being away more frequently lately.”

“It’s risky, Severus.”

“I understand that.”

She gave him a long, appraising stare, and Sev was reminded, uncomfortably, of the days when she had been his teacher, and he her student.

“How’s Lupin?” she asked at last.

“He’s fine,” said Sev, praying his voice gave nothing away.

“And the baby?” she asked.

“He’s…..getting big,” said Sev, and he couldn’t quite keep a note of excitement out of his voice. “Kicking.”

“He?” said Minerva, her eyebrow arching pointedly.

“We…..we think it’s a boy.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“And why do you think that?”

“There was…...he had a sonogram done…...at a Muggle clinic.”

“Did he now?”

“And they…..they said it was a boy,” said Sev. His words hung in the air.

Minerva game him another appraising stare and Sev fought the urge to squirm. “Take care Severus,” she said at last. “I don’t know what is going on between you and Lupin, but we cannot afford to screw anything up.”

*************

Harry managed to avoid Draco and Dudley for the entire morning, sheltering in the sick room with Ron and Hermione, going over all the new information again and trying to come up with a strategy going forward. Ron and Hermione were still weak and ill, especially Ron, who turned pale and shaky when he got up to go to the bathroom and had to be assisted by Harry. Lupin came in periodically to make Ron and Hermione drink one nasty potion or another, but otherwise he left them alone. Gavin wandered in and out, curiously. Mid morning, Amanda appeared in the doorway and asked Hermione, shyly if she would help her with her lessons. Hermione made room for her on the makeshift cot and the two bent their heads over some dusty looking arithmetic primers and a story of a frog that befriended a lonely goat, while Ron and Harry played a desultory game of exploding snap, with Gavin looking on curiously.

However, after Remus served a lunch of tinned tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches he asked Draco to come help him fertilize the snargaluffs. Draco rolled his eyes, but trailed along after Remus, followed by Amanda and Gavin. On the way out, Remus asked Harry and Dudley, lightly, if they would mind doing the washing up. And so they found themselves alone in the kitchen together, stacking and scraping plates and filling the old fashioned ceramic sink with hot soapy water. Harry marveled internally as Dudley tied on the big, old fashioned, flowery apron that Amanda had worn at breakfast and sunk his hands up to the elbows in the sudsy sink. He started washing dishes, handing them to Harry to be rinsed.

Harry who had never seen his cousin do any housework, ever, was astounded but he didn’t want to break the spell by saying anything. They worked in awkward silence until Dudley himself commented, by way of explanation for his behavior. “They’re feeding me, innit?” he said gruffly. “‘S the least I can do.”

Harry snorted. “You never were much of one for housework,” he commented wryly.

Dudley didn’t respond, just kept washing plates and handing them to Harry to rinse.

“How’re things at home, then?” asked Harry at last, into the awkward silence.

“They’re shite,” said Dudley.

Harry felt instantly guilty. Much as he hated the Dursleys, their peaceful existence had been completely overturned, all because of him. “Sorry,” he said at once. “I…..”

“ ‘s’not your fault,” said Dudley, cutting him off at once. “You didn’t choose it, any of it. The way I see it, you was born into it, like.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. He kept rinsing the dishes Dudley handed him him and stacking them in the drainer. They were done with the plates and glasses and were down to the cutlery.

“Dad'd want to hear you say sorry,” said Dudley. “That’s the part he doesn’t get. He keeps looking for someone to blame it all on, but it’s not anyone’s fault, not really. You can say sorry all you like, it isn’t going to change a thing. You were born magic. You have that evil git after your arse. Isn’t a thing you can do about any of that, as far as I can see. Nothing to do but just get on with it.”

Harry did not recollect Dudley ever making such a long speech in his life.

“Dad gets so mad about it all, but there’s not a thing he can do about it,” said Dudley. He immersed the greasy skillet from the grilled cheese making and started scrubbing vigorously at it with the scrub brush. Harry thought of using a Scourgify charm to clean it, but the he didn’t want to break the mood, and the vigorous scrubbing seemed to be serving as an outlet for some of Dudley’s frustrations. “He just sits and drinks and curses at the telly. That’s why I’ve been hanging about here. Mr. Moony and Mr. Sev treat me half way decent, and Malfoy and I can have a smoke and a few laughs.”

Harry put aside for a moment how uncomfortable he felt at the thought of two of his worst enemies sitting around together having a smoke and a few laughs, because something else Dudley had said had caught his attention.

“Mr…….Moony?” he asked. “Why do you call him that?”

Dudley shrugged. “We’ve always called him that," said Dudley. “Since we were kiddos.”

“Kiddos?” echoed Harry lamely. He sat down in one of the worn wooden kitchen chairs, leaving Dudley to wrestle with the crusty tomato soup pot on his own.

“When he came round and took you to the play park and the fun fair? Don’t you remember? Mum would never let me go along.”

“Play park?” said Harry, confused. “Fun fair?”

“Don’t you remember?” said Dudley. “We were like, I dunno, two, maybe three.”

Harry sat and tried to think it through. His parents would have been dead, Sirius in prison. It would have made sense that Lupin would have tried to see him. And now he thought about it, he did remember someone. A kind man, a warm hand holding onto his. A toy bear, a ride on the ferris wheel, cotton floss, a walk by the stream. He had just never realized….. He had just never made the connection. Mr. Moony! Of course! And Dudley was older than him by six months or so. At that age, he would have been a world more mature. Plus, it was probably the only time in their whole lives Harry would have gotten something Dudley really wanted. Of course he would have remembered that.

“I......I guess I do remember,” said Harry, uncertainly. “It’s just…… I never put it together.”

“He’s been decent,” said Dudley again. “Mr. Sev, too, though he doesn’t like to show it. He’s the one that was sweet on your mum.”

“You….you know about that too?” asked Harry incredulously. How was it that Dudley seemed to know all these missing pieces from the puzzle of his past.

“There’s a photo of them, at Mum and Dad's wedding. ‘S’in their album,” said Dudley. “Haven’t you ever seen it?”

“I’ve never seen your parents’ wedding album,” said Harry quietly. “They’ve never shown it to me.”

“Well…. Mum’s been getting it out a lot, since all this started. She likes to look at it when she gets a certain kind of weepy. They were all at school together, you know. I guess Mr. Sev was your mum’s date for their wedding.”

“My mother…..” said Harry incredulously, although it kind of made sense in light of what Snape had shown him last night. “My mother….. went to your parents wedding….with Snape?”

Dudley nodded. “She wore a red dress, in the picture…..” he said. “She looked…..really happy.”

Dudley was done with the washing up. He pulled the drain in the sink, wiped his hands on the flowered apron and hung it on a peg behind the door to the upstairs. He sat down in the chair opposite Harry and sighed heavily.

“Anyway, I’ll be leaving soon,” he said, an echo of his old arrogance in his voice. “Malfoy and I are heading up north, to spy for the Order. We’re just waiting for the word.”

“And…..and your parents are letting you go?” asked Harry.

Dudley shrugged. “They can’t stop me. I’ll be of age in a month,” And Harry remembered that in the Muggle world, legal adulthood was 18.

“And you're sure you want to go?” asked Harry. “It sounds pretty dangerous.”

Dudley shrugged again. “What you’re doing is dangerous,” he said. “I bet you don’t really want to be doing it, either. But you are.”

“Yeah, “ said Harry, feeling strangely warmed by his cousin’s insight into his life. “I wasn’t really given a lot of choice.”

“Remember that night?” said Dudley.

“Which one, Dudley?”

“The night the…...you know, the De…...men…..tors went after us in that alley? Off Magnolia Crescent?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “I remember.”

“Well….it was after that night…..that was when I realized. It wasn’t just bullshit, all this magic you were doing, all this danger you were in. The way you used to cry out at night, d’yeh remember?”

Harry nodded.

“I used to think it was all just tricks, you know. Well that was what Dad wanted me to think, a course. And all the dangerous stuff that you said happened to you, I thought you were just… you know…..trying to get attention. I figured it was all just …... normal school stuff, like getting your head flushed, or getting beat on, a little bit, by blokes as was bigger’n you.”

“Sure, Dudley,” said Harry, with a trace of bitterness in his voice.

“But that night, in Magnolia Crescent, well, I knew it was bad. I knew magic was real and I knew it was worse, much worse than anything you could have made up.”

“It’s also better,” said Harry softly.

“Yeah,” said Dudley. “A course it is! I get that now! And then, remember that night, last year, when that old bloke came round. Dum….ble….dore.” Dudley screwed up his face in concentration when he said it, but he got it right.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “He’s dead now.”

“Oh,” said Dudley, startled by this news. “Sorry. I thought he was so powerful and all.”

“Yeah…...well…” said Harry. “He had a bit of bad luck.” In light of everything he had recently learned about Dumbledore, it was the best he could come up with.

“Remember what he said to me?” asked Dudley.

“No,” said Harry honestly.

“He said he felt sorry for me,” said Dudley. “Well, that pissed me right off, but it also made me think. And the more shit that’s been happening, the more I’ve been thinking.

“I watch the Muggle news nearly every night,” said Dudley. “Well , you know how Mum and Dad are. News, pudding and bed. Same as always. But it’s getting bad, up north. There’s a war going to be starting soon, and those poor stupid blokes, they don’t even get it. They have no idea they’re being used. You Know Who just wants them to kill each other off, and enslave the rest of us. Mr. Sev’s explained it all. So yeah, I'm ready. I can’t sit around that house any more, and I’ll die before I become the Dark Lord’s slave!” And Dudley’s big beefy fist hit the table, hard enough to make the dishes drying in the drainer rattle.

Harry sat there, astounded by this monologue. He looked his cousin in the eye for a long minute. “Be careful up there, Dudley,” Harry said at last. “Don’t get caught. He’s a mean bastard, face to face.”

The kitchen door opened and Remus came in, followed by Amanda and Gavin.

“Have a good chat , you two?” he asked lightly, startling them both. Harry just gave him a quick grin. He knew Remus had set him and Dudley up, but somehow, he didn’t mind.

“Oh Merlin. Look at the time,” Remus said, glancing at the kitchen clock. “Ron’s due for his next dose of potion.” And grabbing the bottle filled with the rusty looking liquid and a large spoon he bustled into the parlour.


	26. The Old Synagogue and the Hairy Heart

The old synagogue was small and wooden, squashed between two more modern buildings of a nondescript nature - dull cement apartment blocks that dated back to the 1950s. Inside it smelled of old books and dust. The light was murky, filtering in from a few windows high in the back wall, above the platform where the services were held. It was almost like being underwater, Remus thought, as they entered the dark, echoey space cautiously. There was a second platform, in the middle of the room, for reading the Torah. Low shelves lined the room, filled with prayer books. The benches were upholstered in ancient red velvet.

A door toward the back, beside the platform, creaked open. A stooped old man emerged slowly. He was tall and walked with a cane. He shuffled down the aisle to meet them.

“I have received your owl,” he said in greeting. His accent was thickly eastern european. He looked over the two men in front of him. He extended a hand to Sev. “The son of Tobias Snape,” he said in a gruff voice with a bit of a wheeze in it. His dark eyes were keen under his heavy brow.

“Yes," said Sev, looking at the old man steadily. “My name is Severus Snape, and this is my partner, Remus Lupin.” Remus wondered briefly, if he meant partner as in partner in crime or partner as in boyfriend, but he was a bit too anxious to give the matter much attention. This was important. They had to get somewhere with this man, or they were going to get nowhere at all.

The old rabbi gave Remus an appraising look, then extended his hand slowly. It was cold and covered with brown spots.

“We have met before,” he said to Remus. “Years ago. You were sent to arrange a meeting with me and your leader, Albus Dumbledore.”

“Yes,” said Remus. “I remember.”

“I am Reb Eleazar Zussman,” he said. “Welcome to Temple Kesem Shalom, Britain’s only magical synagogue. Follow me.” He led them back, behind the Bima, to a small dusty study, crowded with books. Portraits of old men, looking remarkably like their present company, were hung from the strip of wall between the top of the bookshelves and the ceiling. They snoozed in their frames with the exception of one fellow above the door, who stared down at Sev and Remus beadily. A crow in a cage gave a loud harsh caw, then ruffled its feathers and stood still as a statue. A small sneakoscope on the cluttered desk whirred and then went silent.

“ _Acio gafen,_ ” croaked the old man, waving his wand, and a wooden tray with a bottle and three dusty glasses came sailing toward them.

“I have never met you, young man,” Reb Eleazar said to Sev, as the wine bottle uncorked itself with a pop and started filling the glasses. “But I knew your father well.”

“I…..my mother never wanted me to come with him,” said Sev hesitantly, looking down.

“I am aware of the…..controversy in your family,” said the rabbi. He lifted an eyebrow and the tray rose from the table and came to a stop in the air beside Remus’ left shoulder. He took a glass and tasted the dark red liquid cautiously. It was cloyingly sweet. The tray sailed over to Sev, who also took a glass. He took a sip and winced.

Reb Eleazer himself took a glass and drank with apparent satisfaction. He leaned back and surveyed the two men closely, with eyes that were dark and sunk deep in the ancient folds of his face.

“I know who both of you are, of course. You,” he said, turning to Sev, “have risen to a position of great power. Trusted confidante of the Dark Lord, and head of Hogwarts, the position held by my old friend, Albus Dumbledore.”

“Yes,” whispered Sev.

“And you,” he said, turning to Remus. “You are a wanted man.”

“I am,” said Remus.

“And expecting a child, if I am not mistaken.”

At this Remus colored and nodded in affirmation.

“Yours?” asked the Rabbi, turning to Sev.

“No,” said Sev.

“Might as well be,” said Remus, which caused Sev to look at him sharply for a moment, with a question in his eye, and then shake his head and look away. They couldn’t afford to be distracted by the baby right now.

“Children are a great blessing,” commented the Rabbi blandly.

Both men just sat and stared at him. Remus took another sip of the awful wine.

“What can I do for you?” asked the rabbi.

“Reb Eleazar, we need you help,” Sev said. “It…...it seems obvious to say it, but we are here on a mission that requires the strictest confidence.”

“You are both members of the Order of the Phoenix?” asked the Rabbi.

“Yes,” they answered in unison.

“I am aware of the role both of you have played over the years,” he said.

“You are?” asked Sev.

”Dumbledore kept me informed about those whom he considered his allies,” the Rabbi said, with a wry smile. “You can trust me.”

So Sev and Remus told him about Dumbledore’s theory, of the horcrux that was lodged inside Harry. About Dumbledore’s theory that Harry had to die. About their fruitless search for an alternative solution. About their hope that the Kabbalah could provide the answers that they were seeking.

“Does the boy know?” asked the rabbi when their tale was done.

“No,” replied Sev. “Dumbledore did not want him to know, not until the other horcruxes had been destroyed.”

“And how many are gone?” asked the rabbi.

“Three,” said Sev softly. “The diary, the ring, and the locket. And we believe there are three others. One is probably Nagini, the Dark Lord’s snake. The others are unknown.”

“And you believe that a seventh horcrux resides within the Chosen One?””

“Dumbledore believed that,” replied Remus. “And I think he was probably right. But we do not know if the Dark Lord is aware of that one's existence.”

“And although you are the Dark Lord’s trusted confidante, he has never told you about the horcruxes?” asked Reb Eleazer, turning to Sev.

“No,” replied Sev. “He has not.”

“And you have tried to get him to reveal….”

“Of course I have,” replied Sev, sharply, cutting him off. “I haven’t gotten anywhere, unfortunately.”

“The world is a place of deep mystery, is it not?” commented the rabbi. He rose creakily from his seat, and went over to a wooden stand where an ancient looking scroll lay open. He touched it with his wand, and it rolled itself to the place he sought. He kissed the wand tip and then touched it to the scroll, his lips moving silently as he read a passage. He then went over to a glass encased bookshelf and removed a volume. He flipped through for a minute, then laid the book on the table.

The volume was an ancient copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard._ Remus breathed in sharply, when he saw the title of the story the rabbi had turned to. “Of course!” he said, looking at the heading at the top of the page. _“The Wizard’s Hairy Heart._ We were so focused on _The Tale of the Three Brothers._ We forgot about this one!”

“As you will recall,” said Reb Eleazar, “this is the tale of a man who was afraid of love, so afraid that he removed his own heart and had it encased in a crystal casket in the cellar of his house. Of course, things did not go well for him after that. Do you remember what happened?”

"He…. he found a woman he wished to marry,” said Remus hesitantly. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” said the Rabbi softly.

“But when he went to show her his heart, in the casket, it had turned dark and hairy,” said Remus, reaching back to his childhood, remembering his father reading these stories to him beside the parlour fireplace. “When he went to put it back in his chest, it turned on him, and tried to kill him. So he tried to take the heart of the woman he desired, instead. And….and they both ended up dead, the wizard clutching a heart in each hand.”

“The good one and the hairy one,” said Sev.

“That’s right,” said the rabbi.

“But…..but how can this story help us?” asked Remus confused.

“Think, young man.” said Reb Eleazer patiently.

“Well…." said Remus slowly. “The heart was a kind of a horcrux, I suppose. It was a piece of the man’s soul that was outside of his body.”

“Yes,” said the rabbi. “Good. Go on.”

“But… but it had gone bad, hadn’t it?” said Remus, thinking hard. “Sitting in that crystal casket….it became black……and hairy……and when he tried to put it back in his chest it tried to kill him.”

“So if the story is true…” said Sev, picking up the thread of Remus’ thoughts, “Then a horcrux cannot be reunited with the soul it has been split off from. That fragment of soul……..goes bad. It can never go back and rejoin the whole. The soul, once split, cannot be reunited.”

“And if you attempt it, it will kill you!” said Remus, excitement growing. This felt like a lead, like something they might be able to use.

“There is an ancient Hasidic tale,” said the Rabbi slowly. “When the world was being formed the essence of life was poured into glass jars. The jars were beautiful, filled with the sparkling light of pure spirit. But the Lord made a mistake and overfilled the jars. In some versions of the tale the devil jiggled his elbow, causing his hand to slip and overfill the jars. In any event they shattered, filling the world with tiny slivers of broken glass. Each of these slivers contains just a glimmer of hope, of spirit, of love. They are all around us, hidden amidst the pain and suffering of our ordinary lives. It is our job, as humans, to repair the broken fragments and make the world whole again. _Tikkun olam,_ as it is said in Hebrew.

“But how...how can this help Harry?” asked Remus, huskily.

“There is an ancient Hassid prayer, to reunite the broken fragments of the world. It is a complex prayer. To say it properly requires focus, and study. It requires a withdrawal from attachment, as God had to withdraw into himself, in order to make a space for creation to occur. But perhaps, when the time is right, it could be used, to reunite that shattered fragment of soul to the place where it came from, and to rid the world of a great evil.”

The small study was silent. Reb Eleazer poured himself another glass of the awful wine and drank deeply.

“What can we do?” asked Sev at last. “Reb Eleazer, how can we use this?”

“Bring the boy to me,” the Rabbi replied. “He will need to learn the Hebrew, the right inflections, the right wand movements. His intent must be focused and pure. But I believe this prayer may offer your best hope. To repair this particular broken part of the world. _Tikkun Olam._ ”

*********  
Sev and Remus stood in the chilly foyer of the synagogue. The floor was of filthy white marble, a chilly breeze came in through cracks in the wooden slats. Before going out to the street they put on the glamours they had used before, Sev in Muggle jeans, with spiky yellow hair and dark sunglasses, Remus as his pregnant girlfriend with a flowy black dress, purple hair and doc martens. They blended into the crowds outside the building seamlessly.

“Let’s get some food,” said Remus, taking Sev’s arm. He was elated by the progress they had just made, and thrilled to be out on the streets of London. Dirty snow was melting all around them, making the streets wet and shiny. A fine rain was misting and the streetlights were all on, though it was lunchtime.

“It’s not safe,” said Sev at once, looking around nervously. “And I should be getting back to school.”

“Just a quick bite,” said Remus, leading him up the street. “I know a place near here.”

Sev was amazed as Remus in short order steered him through the crowded sidewalk to a small cozy pub in a side street, which glowed invitingly in the mid day gloom. He maneuvered them to a back table inside the busy room, flirted shamelessly with the bartender as he ordered them tea and sandwiches, then sat down and looked about him happily.

“I miss London,” he said with a sigh.

“You certainly…...know your way around.”

“Well, I’ve lived here most of my life.” Their tea arrived. Remus stirred in a generous amount of sugar and drank with great satisfaction. “Except, for well, all the trips to Albania and Transylvania that Dumbledore sent me on. And, of course, I lived in Paris for a year.”

“You…..did?” asked Sev. He found it startling that Remus had lived a life out in the world all these years, traveling, going to pubs. In the same time period he had been sequestered at Hogwarts, teaching potions to an endless river of sullen adolescents.

“Oh yes,” said Remus. “I was a research fellow at the _Institut de Lycanthrope._ But of course,” he added with a shrug, “that didn’t work out.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it was great at first. It’s an amazing place. All the best research on werewolves in the world happens there. But after a while my lycanthropy caught up with me, as usual. My 'furry little problem' as James used to say. I’ve never had an employer who didn’t eventually get tired of my…….frequent illnesses.” And he laughed a short bitter laugh.

They ate sandwiches and chips and talked quietly about all they had learned from Reb Eleazar, and what to do about it.

“We have to tell him, Sev,” said Remus, gently.

“Albus didn’t want him to know, until the end. He wanted him to find and destroy all the other horcruxes first. There’s supposed to be an order to it. It’s all part of the plan.”

“Dumbledore’s dead, Sev,” said Remus. “I know he had a plan but now we have new information.”

 “It’s going to frighten the boy,” said Sev. “I think Albus was worried he might not handle that particular piece of information well.”

 Remus shook his head in frustration. He looked around the crowded pub, thoughtfully.

“It’s strange,” he said. “Dumbledore both overestimated Harry and underestimated him. He left him with a near impossible mission, but he didn’t trust him with one of the most crucial facts.”

Remus’ eyes fixed on a tall handsome fellow, his dark hair pulled into a small bun at the top of his head, as he made his way across the crowded room to the loo.

“Don’t stare, Lupin,” said Severus, his voice suddenly gone tense.

“Oh, sorry,” said Remus, startling back to the conversation.

“You’re……..ogling. “

“Force of habit,” said Remus ruefully.

“It’s unseemly.”

“I was single for a long time.”

“So was I,” said Sev. "But I don’t go around undressing every hottie I see with my eyes.”

“Don’t be jealous,” said Remus. “I’m sure you’re much better in bed than he is.”

“How can you possibly tell that?”

Remus stared up at him for a moment and grinned. “Don’t you even realize it, Sev?” he said. “You’re a stud.” And Remus had the supreme pleasure of watching Severus Snape blush a deep purple red across the table from him.

“I know what I’m talking about,” said Remus slyly, wondering if he could deepen the blush. He grabbed Sev’s thigh under the table and squeezed. “I’ve slept with a lot of people.” Sev just sat there, staring at him.

“Let’s get pudding, shall we?” said Remus lightly. He rose from the table and walked to the bar, moving gracefully. The long hair of his glamour swung about his shoulders, his pregnant belly, under his black dress, preceding him as he walked. He returned with an apple tart and two forks.

“Harry needs to know,” Remus said decisively as he handed Sev a fork and dug into the tart. “He deserves to know what he’s up against. All of it.”

Sev sat there, watching Remus eat, fork in hand.

“Aren’t you going to have any?” asked Remus,looking up at him from under his long purple tinted bangs. “It’s good.” He picked up Sev’s other hand and kissed it lightly, then set it down.

“I like going about in this glamour,” said Remus. “We could sit here and make out in public and no one would blink an eye.”

“No,” said Sev. “We couldn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Are you sure?” asked Remus, He took another bite of the tart, and licked his lips seductively, and when he bent in for a kiss Sev did not resist.

“I like these jeans on you,” Remus whispered, grabbing for Sev’s hip under the table in a way that made his breath grow fast and his pants feel tight. He brushed his own hand down the round curve of Remus’ belly toward his crotch and felt his hard cock pushing against the fabric of his black dress.

“Fuck,” whispered Sev. “Why are you so goddamn sexy all the time?”

Remus just grinned up at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“We were having a serious conversation,” protested Sev.

Remus pulled his hand away and took another bite of the tart. Then he fed Sev a bite. Sev ate it couldn’t help laughing.

“You’re a complete idiot,” he said, smiling at Remus.

“I know,” said Remus, smiling back.

“But I agree with you about Potter,” said Sev, using his own fork to take another bite of the tart. “He needs to know. Everything. We’ll tell him tonight.”

**********

That night, Sev and Remus took Harry aside and told him the awful truth. That there was a horcrux lodged within him. That Dumbledore had planned in the end, that he sacrifice his own life in order to destroy it.

Harry sat there in the upstairs bedroom, staring at the two wizards who sat side by side on the bed. He was in the chair by the fire, which burned brightly in the hearth, warming the room. Harry sat for a long time, not revealing what he was thinking. At least, thought Sev, he wasn’t shouting, or stomping off, or running away.

“I can show you," said Sev at last, “I still have the pensieve here.”

Harry just nodded once. Sev went to the dresser where the pensieve sat, a swirl of grey mist rising gently from the stone basin. He removed a smoky tendril of memory from his temple. He brought the bowl over to the bed and the three of them entered the swirling memories together.

It was a short memory - Dumbledore, explaining that a piece of Voldemort’s soul had lodged in Harry on the night his parents had died, on the night the killing curse had rebounded onto Voldemort. Dumbledore explaining that, in order for Voldemort to truly be finished, Harry must die, and that Voldemort must be the one to kill him. Harry watched as Snape and Dumbledore discussed his fate, and argued over it. He watched while Snape cast a patronus that looked like a doe, with tears in his eyes.

After they had emerged from the pensieve Harry sat back in the chair while Sev returned the memory to his temple and put the stone basin back on the dresser. The silence in the room was heavy.

“I thought he cared about me,” said Harry at last, hollowly. “I always thought…….he liked me. Hermione always said he…….loved me.”

“I know he cared about you, Harry,” said Remus gently.

“He could have told me,” said Harry. “Why didn’t he tell me himself? If he knew about it? He knew he was dying. Why did he leave it to you?”

“I don’t know, Potter,” said Sev. His voice was very quiet, barely above a whisper. “He left a great deal to me, as you may have noticed.”

“He loved you,” Remus said, and Sev was not sure if he was referring to himself or to Harry.

“No,” said Harry decisively. “No. This isn’t love, what he’s left me to do. It’s……..it’s using. I was a tool, in his plan. Nothing more.” And there was a bitterness so deep in Harry’s voice it was painful to hear it. Sev thought of all the ways he himself had been used by Dumbledore, and he had to agree with the boy.

“Harry,” said Remus gently. ”We have an alternative plan.”

“You do?”

“I…….I’m not going to just let you die Harry,” said Remus urgently. “As soon as I found out about this part of the plan I knew we had to find another way.”

“And……have you?” asked Harry, a note of hope creeping back into his voice, and Sev saw, in that moment , how young he still was, and how scared.

“We’ve been doing research for months,” said Remus urgently. “We’ve been studying horcruxes, hallows, delving into dark magic, ancient celtic spells, Kabbalah, anything we could find that we thought might be useful. The fire golem, well, he came out of the Kabbalistic magic we’ve been learning about. And we’ve found someone who thinks he can help you.”

“Who?” asked Harry. “Who is it?”

As succinctly as he could, Sev explained about Temple Kesem Shalom and Reb Eleazar, the story of the hairy heart, and the story of the broken vessels,

“He wants to meet you Harry,” said Remus. “He knows a spell. A spell for mending the broken vessels. A spell for healing the world.’’

“Voldemort’s in me,” said Harry touching his chest. “He’s been in me, all along.”

“Yes," said Remus, meeting his eyes.

“As long as I can remember.”

“Yes. I’m sorry,” said Remus and his voice broke with emotion, but he didn’t look away. “I’m sorry it has to be this way for you.”

Harry grabbed at his chest, as if he was trying to grab onto the sliver of Voldemort’s soul that was lodged there, then turned away from Remus, and his shoulders were shaking. Remus put an arm around him, and Harry let him draw him close. He turned into Remus’ chest and Remus held him and let him cry. He looked up at Sev, and their eyes met, over Harry’s dark head, and Sev saw that Remus’ eyes were also wet with tears.

“I remember that night,” Harry said looking up at Remus, brokenly. “My dad’ s voice. Her screams. The green light. I remember……..”

“I’m sorry,” said Remus again.

“That was the night he……..got into me.”

“Yes.”

“And you…...you came to see me……..after.”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Moony.”

“That’s right.”

“Dudley reminded me,” said Harry, breaking free from Remus’s embrace and sitting on the bed heavily. He put his hand to his scar. “You were kind to me.”

“I tried, Harry. I…...I know I could have done more for you. I should have done more. I..….wanted to Harry, you must believe me. I was blocked, in various ways.”

“By Dumbledore.”

"Yes. But Harry…….. He acted as he thought was best. I still believe that.”

Harry turned to Sev. “He treated you almost as badly as he treated me,” he said.

“Albus saw the world as it was,” said Severus quietly. “He didn’t feel he could let his emotions get in the way.”

“And you don’t hate him? “ asked Harry. He was looking at Sev steadily, more openly than he ever had before.

No,” said Sev. “I do not hate him. He was a man with many flaws, haunted by many demons. There were times he infuriated me, or frustrated me beyond belief. But he saved me, Potter. He saw the good in me, just as your mother had. I was drowning, a lost soul. He offered me a hand, a bridge to become a person I could live with. So no, I do not hate him.”

“Don’t run off again, Harry please,” said Remus. “Stay and work with us. Meet with Reb Eleazer. Hear what he has to say. Your parents were my best friends. Your godfather was the great love of my youth. Your happiness and safety are my first priority, above all else. I understand that you have a great destiny on you. Albus saw that very clearly, from the beginning, and he arranged things according to that understanding. I know I can not keep you away from all danger. But I have never accepted the idea that you have to sacrifice your life. I will not accept it, as long as I am alive and breathing. There is another way Harry, and we are going to help you find it.”


	27. In the Greenhouse

After he finished with Snape and Lupin, Harry descended the stairs only to find Ron and Hermione snogging on the parlor sofa. He beat a hasty retreat, and found himself once again standing in the dirty snow of the back yard at Spinner's End. It was a warm night, the sky above was overcast, reflecting the orange streetlights of the town, giving the sky a weird glow. Harry thought it might snow again, or even rain.

He thought he might cry. Just as he had on the previous night he felt dirty, besmirched, by the memories that Snape had shared with him.

Only this time, it wasn’t about his long gone mother. It was about himself. He shuddered at the knowledge that a piece of Voldemort’s soul resided inside him.

It all kind of made sense. His ability to speak parseltongue. His ability to see Voldemort’s thoughts and feelings. The mental connection that he both prized and feared. But he never thought…. He never could have imagined, that he - he himself - was a horcrux.

Lupin…..Lupin had said he would help him, that he had found a way, and Harry wanted desperately to believe him. And Snape….well after all he had seen in the pensieve the past few nights he was actually starting to believe that they were on the same side. Or at least fighting for the same thing. He was starting to see that Snape had been used nearly as cruelly as he himself had been.

He had agreed to go meet with the rabbi, and start learning the spell they had talked of. The spell for mending the broken pieces of the world. So he guessed he would just have to see. If it could help him find horcruxes, if it could help him destroy the…..the evil that resided within him……

Well at least it was some kind of lead. Something to do in a search that was feeling increasingly fruitless.

He wouldn’t have minded a chance to talk it through with Hermione and Ron, but they were occupied with each other at the moment. Which Harry was actually glad about, because his world was always happier and more peaceful when the two of them were getting along than when they were fighting. He couldn’t exactly begrudge them their time for snogging or shagging or whatever it was they were doing in there. All of their lives were in danger. It was, as Ron was inclined to say in a certain cheerful kind of mood, “Now or never.”

Except that it made him feel like the loneliest person on earth.

He missed Ginny so much, in these moments, when Ron and Hermione were locked in each other’s arms and he was, invariably, out in the snow, cold and alone. He wondered what she was doing right now, but the Marauders Map was inside, and he couldn’t fetch it without disturbing the other two. He thought about the smooth feel of her hair, her strong arms around him, that blazing look in her eyes.

He wasn’t exactly surprised when the greenhouse door opened the the dark figure of Draco Malfoy moved across the snowy garden to join him. Harry was honestly not sure if he was glad to see him or not. It was so weird to not be fighting with Malfoy. He wasn’t sure how much to trust this uneasy truce. But he felt so alone at the moment he didn’t really care.

Malfoy lit two cigarettes and passed one to Harry without a word. Harry took it gratefully and inhaled. The smoke was somehow steadying tonight. He wasn’t as light headed from it as he’d been the night before. He supposed he was getting used to it. They both smoked their cigarettes down to the end without a word and threw them away in the snow.

"Weasley and Granger shagging in the parlor?” Draco asked at last.

“Mmm,” said Harry, noncommittally.

“Bit lonely for you, I’d imagine,” said Draco, looking up at the overcast sky.

“I’m all right,” said Harry.

“Seems your the only one around here who isn’t getting any,” Draco drawled, lighting two more cigarettes and handing one over. As he took it from Draco, Harry caught a whiff of alcohol on the other boy’s breath. He supposed he and Dudley had been drinking out in the greenhouse. That made sense.

“What? You’re not shagging anyone,” Harry said, exhaling. “Unless you and my cousin are getting it on in there.” He was joking, but he was amazed to see Draco color and turn his head away.

“Fuck, Draco!” said Harry in amazement. “You and Dudley?”

Draco said nothing. A few wet flakes of snow started falling from the sky.

“Bloody hell,” said Harry, with feeling.

“You’re cursing like a Muggle,” said Draco dryly.

“Yeah, well you’re _shagging_ a Muggle! Now I’ve fucking heard everything,” said Harry, ignoring him.

“We’re not gay,” said Draco.

“Sounds pretty gay to me,” said Harry.

“It’s just to get off,” said Draco shortly. “It’s not some grand passionate love affair, like those two in there.” He gestured to the house with his head.

“Merlin’s balls,” said Harry softly.

“Shut up, Potter,” said Draco. He exhaled a huge cloud of smoke into the damp night air.

“We should go fetch your girlfriend, Potter,” Draco said.

“What?” said Harry, startled by this change of subject.

“Hols are over,” said Draco. “Is she back at school?"

“Er…..yeah…..why wouldn’t she be?”

“She’s from a blood traitor family. They’re famous blood traitors, the Weasley’s are. I can’t imagine it’s too easy for her at Hogwarts right now.”

“I…..” Harry hated to think of Ginny in any kind of danger, though he knew she would not be one to back away from it, either.

“We broke up,” he said, remembering.

“Did you now, Potter?” said Draco lightly. “Why’d you go and do that?”

“Safety,” said Harry. “I can’t risk….. A girlfriend right now.”

“Wouldn’t you like to see her though?” asked Draco.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Of course I would! More than anything! But I can’t put her in danger.”

“Noble of you, Potter.”

“I’m kind of a liability, in case you hadn’t noticed. Especially now.”

What do you mean by especially now?” asked Draco.

“I … never mind,” said Harry, flustered. “I’m…..dangerous to be around.”

“I don’t really think she minds that about you,” said Draco.

“What would you know about it?” asked Harry.

“I’ve seen how she looks at you,” said Draco. “Anyone could tell.”

Harry looked at Draco. He was tempted, very tempted, by what Draco was proposing. He missed Ginny more as time went on, and as the danger grew, not less. He thought of her blazing eyes once again.

“I could sneak into Hogwarts,” Draco proposed. “I bet she’d come with me, if it meant a chance to see you.”

“That would be ridiculously risky,” said Harry.

Draco shrugged. “It’d be something to do, anyway, instead of this endless waiting around.”

Harry thought of Mrs. Weasley, of Ron. “I….can’t,” he said, turning away from Draco.

“Think about it, Potter,” said Draco, throwing his second fag end into the snow and starting to walk across the lawn. “If I were you, I’d be grabbing some happiness, while I still could.”

Harry watched him go across the snow. As Draco paused to open the greenhouse door Harry called out.

“Wait!”

Draco looked back.

“How…….would you?”

Draco grinned a sly grin, intelligent and cunning. Harry had a sudden flash of what it might mean, to have Malfoy as his ally, after all these years.

“Leave it to me, Potter,” he said. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I could use your cloak, though.”

Harry walked through the soft wet snow on the garden path. Trying not to think too hard about what he was doing, he reached into the inside of his jacket, and handed Draco his invisibility cloak.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked Draco hoarsely.

“Honestly?” said Draco. “I’m bored. I could do with a spot of adventure. And you look so pathetic, moping about the garden every night. I think I’m actually starting to feel sorry for you.”

“Be careful, Draco,” Harry said. “If anything happens to her…”

“I know what I’m doing, Potter,” Draco said. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

And instead of going into the warm orange light of greenhouse, he proceeded down the garden path, to the creaky iron gate, and disappeared beyond the wards.

*********

Harry went into the parlor and got into his sleeping bag in front of the hearth. Ron and Hermione were both chastely back in their respective beds. Asleep? He couldn’t tell. He didn’t really want to talk to them about what had happened in the upstairs bedroom, what he had learned about himself. He didn’t want to tell them that he had consented to allow Draco to go after Ginny. That he had lent him his cloak. What had he been thinking? It was stupid to bring Ginny here, stupid to allow her to expose herself to any unnecessary danger, stupid, especially stupid, to trust Malfoy, and to have given him the cloak.

Harry stared at the embers and feigned sleep. The clock ticked. Ron started snoring lightly and he heard Hermione’s breathing deepen. He lay there and thought and thought. At last, the door creaked quietly, a draft stirred the embers, a soft footstep and a flowery smell. A light hand on his shoulder, a kiss on his cheek. “Come on,” Ginny whispered.

In the kitchen Draco silently handed Harry his cloak. “Thanks,” Harry managed. He had no idea how Draco had pulled this off, but Ginny was there in the kitchen, smiling at him broadly, and he decided he’d think about that later. He decided he’d think about everything later. Dudley was there, looking half asleep, but he gave Harry a thumbs up behind Ginny’s back.

“You two are in the greenhouse,” said Draco. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“Where are you going to sleep?” asked Harry.

“Gavin and Amanda’s floor,” said Draco. “C’mon, Dursley,” and the two of them headed up the stairs.

In the harsh light of the kitchen Harry and Ginny stared at each other.

“Hi,” she said.

“Ginny…..I.....”

“Hush now,” she said, moving closer, and her arms went around him and her lips were on his.

“It’s dangerous,” he protested, pushing her away. “We said we wouldn’t.”

 “Do you think I care?” Ginny asked him, and her eyes were bright with tears. "I know it’s dangerous. I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t mean…..”

“This may be our only chance to be together,” she said. She looked so beautiful, standing there in the harsh light of the kitchen. Her dark red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, She was wearing jeans and a maroon jumper. Harry yearned for her with every fiber of his being.

“It’s worth it,” she said, with a smile that lit up the world. “Completely. Let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and, half in a daze, Harry allowed himself to be led outside into the snowy yard toward the greenhouse.

********

Dudley must have built up the fire before he vacated the premises because the flames burned brightly in the small coal stove. After the cold of the yard the greenhouse felt tropical, the air sweet and damp from the plants growing quietly in their trays of earth.

The old wicker chair was drawn up to the fire, the crude home made bunks were dark shadows against the wall. Harry swallowed back nerves. He hadn’t seen Ginny in months, long months when it sometimes felt as if missing her was the only thing that really mattered any more. The hope of getting through, to the other side, to Ginny, had been the only thing that had kept him going. And now here she was, beautiful and sweet and strong and blazing and they were supposed to…...What? Have sex?

He felt incredibly, stupidly, shy and awkward. He suddenly couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

And then Ginny’s arms were around him and her lips were on his and it was okay. It was more than okay. It was as it had always been between them, right from the beginning. Comfortable and strong and connected. It felt so right, to hold her, to kiss her, and now her tongue was moving into his mouth, her body was pressing against his, he felt her firm breasts against his chest, and the hunger for her that he had been fighting back for months was rising strong and sure within him.

They shied away from the bunks against the wall and wound up in the rickety wicker armchair in each other’s arms. After kissing for a long time they started talking. Brokenly Harry told her about the long search for the horcruxes, about his despair that he wasn’t up to the task, and his fear that he would never complete it. He told her about their disastrous trip to Xenophilius Lovegood’s that had landed them here, in this strange household, where all his old enemies seemed suddenly, inextricably, turned to allies. He told her what he had learned about his mother and Snape. Finally, he told her what he had learned that very night about the fragment of Voldemort’s soul that was lodged inside him.

Ginny talked as well, about the horrible changes that had gone on at Hogwarts, about the student’s efforts to resist, and the resurgence of Dumbledore’s Army. She told him about Christmas at the Burrow with her parents and her brothers and how lonely she had been. Talking with each other felt like rain after a long drought, like a warm fire on a cold night, like eating a meal after going for days without food.

Then they were kissing again, and Harry’s arms were around her. He felt the strong, firm muscles of her back and shoulders, through her jumper, quidditch player’s muscles. He pulled her close against him and she was fierce, kissing him hard, her breath coming in short gasps.

“C’mon,” she said at last, getting up from the creaky wicker chair, pulling him toward the bunk beds against the wall.

“Ginny,” he said.

“I want to,” she said. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, “ he said. “Of course I do. But….are you sure?”

“I have condoms,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” Her grin was saucy.

“Where’d you get…?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I have five brothers ,” she said. “There’s condoms squirrelled away all over the Burrow.” And she pulled her jumper over her head. Her hair had come out of the ponytail and she stood there in a pink bra and shivered. The red light of the fire played over her pale skin and she was so beautiful that Harry could hardly breathe. “C’mon,” she said again. “I’m cold.”

She took off her jeans, slowly, and got into the lower bunk. Harry started to get in beside her.

“Get undressed,” she commanded, and feeling equal parts desire and panic he obeyed, stripping down as quickly as he could to his underwear, white briefs, with his hard on pressing against the front, making a bulge.

In the bed they were both shivering, cold flesh against cold flesh, but her arms were around him, her legs were around him, her mouth was on his and he knew, suddenly that it was going to be okay. Her hand reached out shyly and she stroked his cock, through his underwear, and that made everything else fade away; there was just that, Ginny’s hand on him, for a long time, feeling better and better, until, afraid he would come too soon, he pushed her away.

He knew he was supposed to touch her, to give her pleasure somehow. Fred and George had instructed him and Ron on these matters, but it had all been rather vague. Harry wanted, desperately, to do it right, to make her like it, like him, but he didn’t really know how to go about it. His cock was right there, bulging against his briefs, demanding and hard and…..obvious. Ginny’s bits were all tucked up, inside her white knickers that glowed against her pink skin in the low light of the fire.

She rolled onto her back and pulled Harry toward her and he kissed her freckled shoulders, her chest, bony and white, then her soft breasts, through her bra, then under her bra, her nipples firm and rubbery. This was as far as they had got, last spring, in the golden haze of those long afternoons on the grounds that had felt as if they belonged to someone else. But now they were alone, in a bed, and they both were older. He felt older, there was a new urgency between them and Ginny was right, this might be their only chance.

Harry kissed down, over the curve of her soft white belly, to her navel, which seemed, in the low light, a dark and mysterious cavern. He reached his tongue into it, experimentally and she gasped. She pulled him up, so she could kiss him, her tongue fierce in his mouth, his cock pressed against her thigh. She took his hand and guided it, inside the tight band of her knickers, and into the soft place between her legs, surprisingly, strangely, wet and slippery, and an animal smell rose from her, sweet and rank, hitting Harry deep in his gut, twisting it with wanting her.

“Show me,” said Harry, feeling helpless and awed, and she moved his hand so he felt a small hard nob, beneath his fingers, and Ginny gasped and guided his hand with hers, rubbing it against her, her legs going around his thighs and squeezing hard against him, until she was gasping, her eyes shut tight, and she was reaching for him again, reaching into his underwear, her hand incredibly soft and warm around his cock, her thighs wrapped firmly around him, and there was a rhythm now, to the way their bodies were moving against each other.

“Ginny,” he gasped, knowing he was close, thinking it was a shame, they were going to miss their chance, to actually shag, but it felt so good, just like this.

“It’s all right,” she she grunted, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, her dark hair a pool around her face, and Harry bent , to kiss her soft warm neck, to pull her closer to him as the waves of orgasm started to overtake his body and Ginny cried out and arched against him, pulling him even closer with her legs and thrusting herself against his hand. And then everything went perfectly still.

********

Harry woke several hours later to Ginny’s light feathery kisses on his face and he thought he had never, ever, dreamed he could feel such happiness. Her skin was soft and creamy, her hair slithering over his shoulders, the bunk a warm perfect nest. It had started to rain, the drops sounding loud on the glass roof of the greenhouse. Harry stretched, and wiggled his toes, and started kissing Ginny back.

“We didn’t…...use the condom,” he whispered, worried that she was disappointed.

She smiled at him “Next time,” she said.

“Ginny,” he said, low. “There isn’t going to be a next time.”

She looked at him a long moment, her face was defiant. “Now that I know where you are I’ll not stay away,” she said.

“It’s too dangerous,” Harry said.

“I don’t care,” she replied.

“I don’t want you putting yourself at risk.”

“It’s not up to you.”

They lay in the narrow, hard bunk, and stared at each other, the happiness Harry had felt just a few moment before had evaporated away, almost as if it had never been.

“I thought you wanted to see me,” she said in a small voice.

“I do, Ginny,” said Harry. He ran his hands through his hair. “More than anything. Being with you is like nothing else in my life. It’s so good, it’s like it’s happening to another person. But…”

She put a finger on his lips, silencing him. “No buts,” she said.

“Don’t you even get it?” Harry asked, pushing her hand away. His agitation was growing. “Didn’t you even hear what I told you last night?"

“I did,” she said. “But I don’t care.”

“He’s in me,” Harry cried, pulling at his chest again, as if he was trying to pull the fragment of Voldemort that resided in him out through his sternum.

“Actually, Harry, I know what that feels like.”

And then he remembered. Of course. Ginny had been possessed by Voldemort, in her first year. The Chamber of Secrets.

She grabbed his face, so he had to look into her eyes and couldn’t look away. “I….. don’t….. care….” she said, kissing him, hard, between each word. “About any of it. I don’t care about the danger and I don’t care about some stupid shard of the Great Lord of Ugliness that happens to be lodged inside you. You’ve had it since you were a baby. The only thing that’s different is that you know about it now. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t change a thing.”

And Harry couldn’t help it. He felt a tiny flame of hope, growing in his heart, that maybe Ginny could love him, in spite of the terrible truth about himself that he had revealed to her. She lay there looking at him, blazing and strong and incredibly beautiful.

“Listen Harry,” she went on. “It’s war. We’re working against them at Hogwarts all the time, doing what we can to resist. It’s not like we’re sitting around all day, letting them walk all over us. I’m going to do risky stuff, whether you like it or not. I’m not some…. Delicate flower, all right? I’m a soldier, in the DA. I’m going to fight with everything I’ve got. Sneaking out here to see you, well, it’s just one more risky thing among many.”

“I …….I do want to see you again,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers.

“Good,” she said. “That’s settled.” She brushed his cheek with her soft small hand. “I’ve got to get back to school. I’ll be missed at breakfast if I’m not there.”

“Is it safe to go back?” Harry asked at once.

“No,” she said. “Of course not. But I’ll manage.”

He kissed her. “I don’t like the thought of you in danger,” he said.

She slipped out of the warm bunk and started dressing. “I know. But I’ve got to go anyway.”

“How’re you getting back to school?” asked Harry, watching her as she dressed, her movements fluid and graceful.

“I’ll apparate to Hogsmeade," she said. “I know a way into Hogwarts from there.”

“Do you…..have your licence?” asked Harry, struggling to think. Ginny was a sixth year. Wouldn’t her apparition test be sometime this spring?

She gave him a mischievous grin, “No worries,” she said. She pulled her hair back into its ponytail and bent to kiss him goodbye, her flowery smell surrounding him for one more brief, heavenly moment. The rain sounded very loud on the roof of the greenhouse.

“You’ll…. get wet,” he protested, feeling panicky, suddenly, wanting to keep her there, but she just shrugged. “I love you,” she said. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.” And she left, going out into the dark wet garden, leaving Harry lying there alone in the warmth, in the smell of Ginny and the sharp, unfamiliar smell of sex, listening to the rain as it fell against the glass roof that slowly turned indigo, then blue, then grey in the morning light.

***********

Remus got up to pee before dawn. This had been happening more frequently as the baby got bigger. Lately, he had been getting up twice a night. At times, it had started to feel as if the baby was standing right on his bladder.

Before going back to bed he looked out the narrow bathroom window into the back garden and saw the greenhouse door open. A lithe figure emerged and left by the back gate. Her ponytail swung behind her, and Remus caught a hint of red in the low light reflected from the street.

A few drops of rain spattered the window where he stood. Remus smiled to himself. He wondered how they had managed to get Ginny to Spinner’s End. It was another security risk, but he was glad for Harry. Poor kid. He thought of Harry’s face when they’d emerged from the pensieve last night. He had a long road ahead. Remus was glad he had found someone to love him.

He went back to the front bedroom, where Sev was asleep. He slipped out of his dressing gown and got into bed, naked, and curled around Sev, who stirred and pulled him close. Warm skin against warm skin, and the rich fragrance of their lovemaking from earlier in the evening. The rain lashed at the windows. The baby stirred and kicked, a small foot slithering across the top of Remus’ belly, sending a shiver of joy through him. He drifted back off to sleep, enjoying their small cocoon of warmth and happiness, while he still could.


	28. One Winter Evening

Harry spent the next day feeling as if his feet didn’t quite touch the ground, as if he was walking on a small cushion of air. The revelation, that Snape and Lupin had made the night before seemed to hardly touch his consciousness. His mind kept going back Ginny, to the feel of her arms around him, to the weight of her sleeping beside him, her hair shimmering in the firelight. His muscles felt loose and free. He felt buffered, as if nothing bad could touch him.

The rain continued all day in steady, cold sheets and by evening the back garden was a sodden, icy mess. Remus made a beef stew and an apple crisp for supper and they all gathered in the brightly lit kitchen. The mood was lighthearted as they ate, the chatter intense. Remus set aside a portion for Sev, hoping he might still arrive later in the evening. He assigned the washing up to Draco and Amanda, then stood at the kitchen door and looked out into the back garden. It was a cold, clear evening. The rain had stopped and the temperature had dropped back toward winter. The garden was coated in a treacherous sheet of ice. The moon was waxing again, close to full, riding high in a clear indigo sky. He was starting to feel it, the familiar tug in his joints, a restlessness in his blood, his skin turning twitchy and sensitive, the hairs on his arms standing up with any breeze or movement. Only a few more days, and Remus knew they would go fast. The moon always came. It was the guiding principle of his life. The sixth moon. At least he and the baby were getting through them. He stretched, popping his joints.

He joined the others in the parlour where Harry and Ron were teaching Dudley and Gavin how to play exploding snap. Hermione had discovered the library and was going through it with an appetite that rivaled Remus’ own. She had been distracted at dinner, impatient, anxious to get back to the books. Remus could see her brown curls, poking up in a frizzy mass above the top of the burgundy armchair.

Remus built up the parlor fire, using his wand to transfer a few logs from the wood box to the fireplace. The woodbox was charmed to magically refill itself from the woodshed in the back garden. He settled by the fire with a contented sigh. The baby was moving about gently, a reassuring presence. He had let Gavin and Amanda put their hands on him earlier in the afternoon, and they had felt the baby moving. He had felt shy about having anyone other than Sev touch his swollen belly, but the children had been entranced.

He must have actually dozed off, his stomach full, lulled by the warm fire and the chatter in the room when a sharp knock on the front door startled him awake. He heaved himself out of the armchair, awkwardly, searching frantically for his wand. Remus was tall but he was normally slender and lithe, his whole style of fighting was based on moving quickly. Now, he felt off balance, his center of gravity shifted, his weight thrown forward by his pregnant belly. He felt slow and awkward, holding his wand in fighting stance. He would have to do the best he could. No other choice, really.

Harry all ready had his wand out, and Ron was right behind him. Draco appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, wand in hand and Hermione, likewise was at the door of the study, holding her wand, her frizzy hair catching the light of the lamp in the study behind her, giving her the appearance of having a shimmery aura.

Remus looked about the room, well pleased at their response. “No one make a move unless I say so,” he said in a tight whisper. “Harry and Ron, cover the door. Draco and Hermione, cover me. Dudley, take Amanda and Gavin behind the sofa and get low.”

He glanced at the silent sneakoscope set above the front door and wondered if it was still functioning. The foe glass, set in the place in the foyer where a mirror would normally be, was likewise empty. Remus moved cautiously to the foyer. The entrance area was dusty and neglected. They never used the front door. He peered through the peephole set above the curtained window and saw….Nymphadora Tonks, her hair in yellow spikes around her head.

“Hold your fire,” he whispered. “It’s Tonks…….I think.”

Fuck. Last time he’d seen her at been at the Hairy Owl, a seedy pub in Diagon Alley, where they’d shared a pint and had the awkward “sorry-it-didn’t-work-out-but-actually-I’m-gay,” conversation. He’d had these types of talks with a variety of women over the years, and he always hated them. Now he tried desperately to remember what she had been wearing that night, or what color her hair had been. He opened the door a crack.

“Identify yourself!” he called into the frosty night.

“It is I, Nymphadora Tonks.”

“Where did you last see me? And what was I wearing?” demanded Remus.

“I last saw you in the Hairy Owl and you were wearing…….some tweedy thing and….Oh Merlin’s toes, look at you! Mum told me about the baby! Congratulations!” and before he had time to go through the proper protocol, Tonks had pushed the door open all the way and enclosed him in a tight bear hug.

“Tonks,” Hermione squealed and in a moment she was across the room and had thrown her arms around her. Tonks, a full head taller than Hermione, lifted her off her feet and started to twirl her, but her motion was impeded by Harry and Ron, who followed Hermione’s lead and wrapped their arms around Tonks.

Remus went to shut the door and found a cat sitting on the front step, looking up at him. A ginger colored cat with a squashed face, raggedy ears and a bottle brush tail.

“Hello,” said Remus to the cat He had definitely seen it somewhere before.

“Merrow,” said the cat.

Tonks looked looked up and over the tangle of adolescent arms she was encased in and peered at the cat. “Oi, Hermione, isn’t he yours?”

“Crookshanks!” Hermione screamed, and she detangled herself from the hug pile and gathered the ginger cat in her arms. Crookshanks immediately started purring, with an engine like rumble that filled the room.

“He followed me from the center of town,” Tonks explained. “He must have been looking for you for a while. Smart cat, he is.”

Tonks let go of Harry and Ron and surveyed the room. “Wotcher Amanda, Hey Gavs,” she said, to the two children, who had popped up from behind the sofa. They waved and grinned at her.

“These two the chaps that are coming with me?” she asked Remus, looking over Draco and Dudley with a critical eye.

Remus shut the door firmly and locked it. “Draco and Dudley, I’d like you to meet Nymphadora Tonks,” he said.

“But call me Tonks,” she added. “Which one of them is my cousin, then?”

Draco stepped forward, his elite upbringing apparent in the way he moved and talked. “I’m Draco Malfoy,” he said, and offered her his hand. “At your service.” She shook it, looking him over as if she were assessing every inch of him.

“And you’re Harry’s cousin?” She asked, turning to Dudley. He stepped forward from behind the sofa shyly and took her hand. “Dudley Dursley,” he said gruffly, imitating Draco. “At your service.”

“You’re muggle, then?” she asked, and Dudley grinned.

“That’s good,” Tonks said. “We need some Muggle insiders. We’ll make good use of both of you. Are you two ready to go?”

“Yes,” they answered in unison.

“Go get your gear, then,” she said and the two boys disappeared toward the back.

“Can I get you anything, Dora?” asked Remus. “Tea? Supper?” He had known her since she was a little girl, and never could think of her by any other name.

“I haven’t time,” she said. “We’ve got to meet Kingsley at Paddington at ten. We’re taking the night train up north from there.”

“What’s going on with your dad?” asked Remus.

“Azkaban,” said Tonks briefly, looking grim.

“Oh Dora! I’m so sorry!”

“At least he’s still alive,” said Tonks. “Mum’s pulling every string she can at the Ministry to get him released.”

“Do you think that will work?”

Tonks shrugged. “Mum seems to think so. I’m not sure she realizes how bad it’s gotten at the Ministry, though. I don’t know how much weight the Black name still carries. The way things are there now, I think they just see her as a blood traitor and that’s it. But she’s still trying. If she can get him released, they’re going to leave the country.”

Dudley and Draco were back, packs over their shoulders, looking nervous but determined.

Remus went to shake Draco’s hand. He looked into Draco’s face, which was even paler than usual, his eyes icy blue and haughty. “Thank you, Lupin,” he said. “Say goodbye and thank you to Professor Snape for me.”

“I will Draco,” Remus said. “Good luck up there.”

“Yeah,” said Draco. “Thanks. Good luck with, you know…...the baby and all.”

Dudley was shaking hands with Harry, awkwardly. “Look in on my parents if you can,” he said gruffly. “Tell them I left to fight for the Order, all right? I…..I want them to know.”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Be careful, Dudley, all right?”

“Can you apparate?” Tonks asked Draco.

“I got my licence last spring,” Draco replied.

“Good,” said Tonks. “We’ve got to be at Paddington Station in fifteen minutes to catch a train. I’ll side by side apparate with Dudley.”

Draco turned to wave to the assembled, and Amanda and Gavin came running up and threw their arms about him. He knelt down to give them both a quick hug and ruffle their hair. “Be good, you two,” he said gruffly.

“No time for long goodbyes,” said Tonks, “We have to be off. Can’t miss the train. Cheerio, all.” She hustled Dudley and Draco out the front door and they were gone.

The room felt eerily silent and still after they left. Gavin started to whimper, and Amanda kicked him. “Crybaby,” she whispered.

“Now, now, none of that,” said Remus. He went over to Gavin and picked him up. Gavin put his arms around Remus’ neck and buried his face in his shoulder.

“Bedtime, I think," Remus said.

“Will you read to us?” asked Amanda.

“Of course,” said Remus, heading for the stairs. “If you get your teeth brushed first.”

 ********

Sev came in through the upstairs floo and sensed the emptiness in the house at once. He strode across the landing and stopped at the doorway of his childhood bedroom. Remus was on one of the beds, reading to Gavin and Amanda. The children were seated on either side of him, all three had their backs against the wall. The light had been covered with a red scarf, to shade it, giving the room a cozy glow. Sev recognized the book - his own tattered copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard, the cover worn and fraying. Remus must have dug it up somewhere in the house.

“Mr. Sev!” the children cried, and tumbled out of bed to hug him. Sev didn’t quite know how it had happened but somehow, in the weeks that Gavin and Amanda had been living here, they had started to greet his arrival with an abundance of.....physical affection. He found he didn’t mind.

“Draco and Dudley left,” announced Gavin, wide eyed.

“Did they, now?” said Sev. “I wondered. “Get back in bed you two, it’s cold.” he added.

“Dora Tonks came to fetch them about an hour ago,“ Remus told him. “There’s food in the kitchen, if you’re hungry.”

Sev ran his hand through his hair.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll…..thank you, Lupin.”

He went down to the kitchen. The murmur of low voices came from the parlour. Harry, Ron and Hermione, talking quietly among themselves. He glanced outside the kitchen window to the greenhouse. It was dark and empty. He fixed himself a bowl of stew, then carried it upstairs. He settled on the other bed in the small bedroom. He ate his stew while Remus read the tale of Babbity Rabbity, then stretched out and closed his eyes while Remus read the tale of The Wizard and the Hopping Pot.

He almost fell asleep there, lying on the soft bed, in the low light, with his belly full of stew, with the sound of Remus’ voice, gentle and soothing. When the story was finished, Remus came over and kissed his cheek, then grabbed his hands and started pulling him up.

“That’s Gavin’s bed," said Remus. “We’ll have to tuck you in across the way.”

“It used to be mine,” Sev objected sleepily, but he allowed Remus to pull him to his feet. Together they tucked the children in and then went across the landing to their own room.

********

In the children’s room, Sev had been drifting toward exhausted sleep, but once they were in bed together Remus was kissing him eagerly, hungrily, with an intensity and passion that Sev had started to recognize as a precursor of the moon.

“I’ve been wanting you all day,” Remus whispered in his ear. His hot breath was followed by his tongue, circling Sev’s ear delicately, then he was unbuttoning Sev’s shirt, pushing up his vest, tonguing the skin of his chest and belly, tugging at his belt, undoing his flies and pulling off his trousers. He stroked Sev’s cock which was tenting his white boxers and Sev wasn’t sleepy anymore, his excitement building as Remus tongued at his penis through the white fabric of his underwear and Remus’ hands were diving under his waistband, to stroke at the curve of his arse, and then to stroke and gentle right at the core of him.

“You can do me,” said Sev hoarsely, as Remus’ delicate fingers circled and probed at the sensitive tissues, making Sev’s breath come in short eager gasps. Remus had only fucked him, the one time, at Christmas, but now he felt a shiver in his gut, at the thought of it, a deep yearning in his back and his belly.

“All right,” said Remus with a wolfish grin. He kissed his way up Sev until he was looking him in the eye. His eyes were amber pools, the usual green flecks in them had taken on a yellowish tinge, with the approach of the moon. His pale face had a dark shadow of stubble. He bent to kiss Sev on the mouth, tenderly, and his rough cheek rasped against Sev’s face.

“I love to fuck,” Remus breathed, kissing harder, more hungrily.

“You do?” Sev said, surprised by this statement. “You’ve never said.” He gasped as Remus slid a knee between his legs and pressed it firmly into his arse.

“Well you’ve never asked,” said Remus.“And I didn’t want to, you know, pressure you.”

“Mmm,” Sev grunted as Remus shifted and pressed his cock against Sev’s, which rose up to meet him. “You can pressure me, Lupin,….all…..you…..want.”

“I am going to enjoy you,” Remus said, breathing harder. He pulled off Sev’s vest and shirt, and then his boxers, then he rose and got out of his own clothing quickly. He found the lube, and sitting on the side of the bed, pushed Sev onto his belly and then lubed him, making little circles around his arse until Sev was gasping , trembling with wanting him. He rose onto his knees and grabbed the lovely fullness of Sev’s firm, round ass and then pushed his cock deep inside. He felt the weight of Sev, the round fullness of him, the pressure and warmth of Sev all around his cock. He loved this, the power, and the freedom of it, He pushed up and in, going deeper, his knees found purchase on the bed, his hand snaked around to pinch Sev’s nipple “Oh….Remus…” Sev moaned, an animal sound, dense with desire. Remus pushed him forward, finding a rhythm, riding the edge of the pleasure, harder and faster. “ Soooo good,” Sev gasped.

“No more talking now, love,” Remus said and put a hand gently over Sev’s mouth. He paused for a moment, to slow it down, but Sev pushed back into him, hungrily and then Remus couldn’t hold back any more. He reached round to grab Sev’s cock in his fist, long and hard and then it was only a few more moments of that unstoppable goodness and then Sev was coming and he was coming and he was pulling him closer still, to ride the waves of pleasure inside of him as long as he could.

**********

“Merlin’s hairy arse,” gasped Sev, when he could speak again. “Buggery!” He was lying in a pool of his own cum, Remus a heavy weight above him. Every muscle in his body felt loose, unwound. Remus kissed the back of his his neck, biting it lightly and moved out of him and off of him with a groan.

“It’s underrated, I find,” Remus said, kissing Sev’s ear, and pulling him round so they were lying face to face.

“How’s baby?” Sev asked, his hand on Remus’ belly.

“Fine I think,” said Remus.

“How do you do that…...with him …..right there?” Sev was still breathing hard and Remus was kissing his face, his neck, his shoulders, drinking him in.

“It’s all…….in the angle,” he said, smiling.

“He’s…..quiet,” said Sev, hand still on the bump, a note of worry creeping into his voice.

“Sleeping, I think. It’s funny, sex seems to quiet him down.”

“We won’t….hurt him?”

Remus shrugged. “Not according to all those ministry approved pamphlets that Poppy left us. Love making is supposed to improve the bond between the parents. There, he’s starting to move again,” and Remus moved Sev’s hand to the spot where a tiny foot was poking out.

“Hello baby,” said Sev, smiling. He pressed on Remus’ belly and was rewarded with an answering kick.

“You will take care of him if anything happens to me?” Remus asked, gently.

“Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“Hope not.”

“No.”

“Sev, I’m just being realistic. You know the statistics on male birth as well as I do.”

“No,” said Severus,cutting him off with a gesture of his hand. “You are not going to die, Lupin.”

“You can’t know that, Sev.”

“I won’t let you,” Severus insisted stubbornly.

Remus just smiled at him and stroked his hair. After a few moments his hand drifted down and his finger stroked the dark mark on the inside of Sev’ wrist. “I could die too, you know,” Sev said.

“I know,” said Remus. “But you’re brave and clever and pure of heart.”

Sev snorted at that.

“You are,” insisted Remus.

“Listen, Lupin,” Sev said. “I ‘ve been meaning to talk to you about this for a while. If something does happen to me…..”

Remus tried to shush him with a kiss, but Sev pushed him back and soldiered on.

“No _listen!_ ” Sev said, suddenly urgent. “Anything could happen, we both know that. It’s only a matter of time, probably. But I……. I need to know. That you’re going to be safe. You and….and the baby. If I’m betrayed, if _He_ gets past my defenses and finds out about what’s going on here, well, then this house won’t be safe any more. I need to know there’s an escape plan. For you…. and …..and Amanda and Gavin…. and the others.”

“Okay,” said Remus cautiously.

“There’s a locked box, down in the study. It’s magicked invisible and the key will only open for you or for me. _Accio key_!” he said, and a small brass key disentangled itself from the pocket in his robes and came sailing across the room into his hand. He handed the key to Remus.

”Inside is money, in both galleons and pounds, and a letter to my aunts, Pepper and Spider, and instructions to their house. If anything happens, I’ll try to send you word. Promise me, you’ll take the money, and go.”

“Sev….I …..you don’t need to do this. I…. can’t pay you back.”

“I don’t care about the money!” said Sev at once. “I care about your safety. And the baby’s. And Gav and Amanda’s. If I end up in a cell in Azkaban, it will help me to know you got somewhere safe, or at least that there’s a chance that you did. All right?”

Remus looked at Sev a long moment and then his eyes welled up with tears. He took the back of his hand and wiped them away, angrily. Sev held his face and kissed the tears away. “There, there, none of that, “ he said, kissing Remus’ eyes, his cheeks. “Hush now, no crying,” though his own throat felt tight.

“All right,” said Remus, at last taking his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry. It’s just…… I get this way before the moon.”

“I know”

“Thank you Sev.” He brought Sev’s fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “You’re very good to me.”

They lay there for a few minutes and held each other.

“I just need to know,” said Sev, at last. “I need to know that you’ll be safe.”

“All right,” said Remus.

“Good.”

 ***********

 On the train heading north Dudley and Draco shared a sleeping cabin. Draco stretched himself out on the lower bunk, his hands behind his head, and watched Dudley while he brushed his teeth and shaved. When he had finished, he stood for a moment and looked out the tiny window above the sink. All was inky blackness, with the occasional light twinkling off in the distance.

After a few moments Dudley got into bed on top of Draco, his full weight on him, his cock hard and pressing in. He liked the feel of Draco under him, liked the way he could make the other boy gasp and squirm and arch his back, just by moving against him. He felt good, he felt excited, like something was finally happening, after all the endless waiting around.

“Want to go all the way this time?” he said to Draco with a sly grin.

“I…..er,” Draco responded, incoherently. As usual when Dudley was pressing down onto him, normal thought seemed to go out the window, his head was filled with rocks and a strange white noise and his body seemed to have a mind of it’s own. This sensation was exacerbated tonight by the rhythmic rocking motion of the train, the relentless, mechanical pounding of the wheels on the tracks.

They hadn’t done anything more than jerk each other off, or dry hump to the point of ecstatic release. But now Dudley was breathing hard above him, his pupils so dilated that his eyes looked black, his nostrils flared.

“I have condoms,” Dudley breathed. Draco felt his gut twist and he knew he wanted to.

“Who gets to…...you know…....be the boy?” Draco asked, looking into Dudley’s eyes. He couldn’t pull them away.

Dudley shrugged. “Dunno,” he said. “Doesn’t matter. It can be you, if you like.”

Draco’s hands slid around to Dudley’s generous arse and squeezed. Dudley responded by grinding into him and breathing harder.

“All right,” Draco agreed, the white noise louder than ever in his head, mixing in with the clackety clack of the wheels on the rails beneath him. “Yeah. If you really want to.”


	29. After the Moon

The seventh moon came, riding high and bright, in a clear sky etched by the bare branches of the trees. It was a cold, still night. The wolf and the panther ran, on frosty hard ground from which the snow had been washed away.

When the moon had set and they were human once again, Sev and Remus returned to Spinner's End, exhausted, leaning heavily into each other. There they came upon Harry and Ginny, sitting at the kitchen table, sharing a cup of tea in the early morning light.

“Really, Potter?” said Sev, wearily, looking at the two of them. Remus, his face deathly white, stood beside him, clutching his arm.

“I’m sorry professor,” Ginny squeaked, looking at him over her teacup which had frozen halfway to her mouth when they had entered.

“ ‘S’all right,,” said Remus groggily, turning his face into Sev’s shoulder and sagging into him. “They deserve….. A little happiness.”

“You knew about this?” Sev demanded.

“Yeah.” mumbled Remus, his eyes half closed. “Yes. Yes I did. Don’t be angry.”

Sev gave an exasperated sigh and shot Harry and Ginny a dark look.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ve got to get Lupin into bed before he collapses. Just….. Be careful you two. Please.” He started leading Remus up the narrow stairs.

“Thank you professor,” said Ginny softly.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Weasley,” he replied. “I’ll see you at school.”

**********

Sev had a healing potion ready for Remus and he made him drink it, though his eyelids were already fluttering closed.

“Hold me?” Remus murmurred as Sev took off his clothing and pulled the quilt up around his shoulders.

“I’ve got to go,” Sev said. He sat on the edge of the bed and bent to kiss Remus on the cheek. Absently, he picked a leaf out of Remus’ hair, then slid his cold hand under the quilt, to lay it on Remus’ warm belly. “How’s baby?”

“Looking for you,” said Remus, moving Sev’s hand to the spot where the baby’s foot was poking out. He rolled onto his side, curling his back against Sev with a contented sigh.

“We need a name,” Remus said, sleepily.

“We need to see the centaurs,” Severus replied.

************

After only a few minutes Remus was lost in a deep sleep. Sev sat beside him, lulled by his soft breathing, tempted to drift off himself. He roused himself reluctantly, slipped away from the warm nest of Remus and the baby, and went across the landing. Gavin was sitting up in bed, his brown head a tousled mess. Amanda was also starting to stir.

“Morning Mr. Sev, “ said Gavin with a yawn. Sev went over to Gavin who put his arms around his neck. He picked him up. “Time to get up Amanda,” he said. “Mr. Moony is ill this morning, so Hermione and Ron are going to look out for you. Harry and I have something we have to do.”

“Is he all right?” asked Amanda, looking up at him sleepily.

“He’s fine,” said Sev. “Just leave him be so he can sleep. He’ll be better by tonight.” He gave Amanda a hand up and the three of them went down to the kitchen together.

**********

Sev had breakfast with the children at Spinner’s End, then he and Harry apparated to the alley behind Temple Kesem Shalom. It was an overcast wintery day, and cold. The the dirty puddles in the abandoned alley were frozen solid, the grubby pavement strewn with rubbish and broken bottles. A coffee can filled with damp cigarette butts sat on an upturned barrel. Dead weeds along the sides of the old wooden building rustled in the chilly breeze.

Sev knocked at the back door and after a longish time Reb Eleazer, his raven perched on his shoulder, cautiously opened the door.

“Hello, Severus,” said the rabbi, looking at him steadily with his deep dark eyes.

“This is……”

“Harry Potter,” said the Rabbi, and he turned to Harry and shook his hand with a good deal of warmth in his manner. “I have heard tales of your bravery. Now it seems, I have some tales to share with you. Welcome to Temple Kessem Shalom.”

He ushered them through the dark echoey space of the synagogue and into his messy office. The raven croaked loudly and flew into his open cage where he settled on a perch and stared out at them beadily. The portraits of the old men snoozed on the walls above them. One of them gave a loudish snore.

The Rabbi pushed aside a messy pile of books and papers and settled Harry at a small rickety table in the corner of his study. He sat with a groan in the chair opposite him. He waved his wand and a tray with a teapot and 3 chipped and mismatched cups appeared at his elbow. He tapped the pot with his wand and steam issued from the spout. The pot lifted into the air and started to pour.

“Albus Dumbledore was a friend of mine,” the Rabbi said, looking at Harry intently. “He shared certain information with me, about the great struggle against the Dark Lord, about his hopes and his intentions for you……”

Sev sat there and sipped his tea but he found his mind wandering as Reb Eleazer told Harry _The Tale of the Hairy Heart,_ and the _Tale of the Broken Vessels_ and explained how these ancient stories might be able to help him. Sev thought about his father, the bitter and lonely man who had somehow found solace and fellowship within these walls.  Sev supposed he had found some kind of peace here, after a life of failure and disappointment. He remembered the fighting between his parents as almost constant. He had grown up in a house filled with a low brooding hostility and mistrust, that flared frequently and unpredictably into anger, even violence.

He had spent his childhood in a state of high alert, always bracing for the next outburst from his parents.

It wasn’t actually that different from his adult life he mused. Alone. Secretive. Afraid. Always on the alert for the next catastrophe.

Remus had changed all that for him. He thought of him safely sleeping between the sheets at Spinner’s End. He thought of the baby, drifting in his watery world. Everything was different now. His temples throbbed with fatigue, his sleepless night starting to catch up with him. All he really wanted was to crawl back into bed with them.

Reb Eleazer stood, breaking Sev from his reverie. “It starts with the aleph bet,” he said to Harry, handing him a chart of the Hebrew letters. “Learn these letters, their sounds and their order. Practice writing them until you know them by heart. I shall see you in two days. We have much to accomplish, and time is short.”

He led them back through the main synagogue to the back door. The dark room seemed to whisper with ancient secrets. At the door he turned to Sev. “Your father found much solace here,” he said, looking at Sev with his deep penetrating eyes. Sev found he could not look away. “I hope you know that there is always a place for you here, if you choose to seek it. Good day to you both.”

**********

Outside, Sev caught his reflection in the dirty glass window of the back door. His hair was growing out from the haircut that Aunt Spider had given him at Christmas. It was starting to hang in his eyes. He fluffed it up impatiently

“I need a haircut,” he said with irritation. He had other, more important things to think about. He didn’t have time to worry about his _hair._

“It looks good short,” said Harry looking him over. “It’s an improvement.”

“It doesn’t look too gay?” asked Sev anxiously.

“No,” said Harry, and grinned at him. “Not _too_ gay.”

***********

Sev got through his day at Hogwarts in a haze of fatigue. Once his classes were over he longed to escape back to Spinner’s End. Always, after the moon, his anxiety about Remus was at its highest. But he had one more task he needed to complete. In his office he gathered a few essentials, then slipped outside under Moody’s old invisibility cloak.

He left the castle and walked over the hard frozen earth of the Hogwarts grounds. The lights of Hagrid’s cabin glowed warmly in the low gloom of late afternoon. As he approached the cabin Sev, heard the deep warning bark of the huge dog that was Hagrid’s constant companion. What was his name? Sev could not recall. He stood outside the large wooden door and knocked.

Hagrid opened the door and looked around, confused. The dog behind him growled.

“It is I, Severus Snape. I wish to talk to you.”

"Perfessor…….” Hagrid said, obviously uncomfortable at the sound of his disembodied voice. Sev lifted a corner of the cloak to show Hagrid his face. “Er… Headmaster…..I ….”

“In, quickly,” said Sev. No use lingering outside where curious eyes might spot Hagrid standing in his doorway, having a conversation with the empty air.

“O’ course, perfessor, O’ course. _Down,_ Fang!” Hagrid said, moving his great bulk aside so Sev could enter.

Once inside Sev took the precaution of drawing the curtains shut with a flick of his wand before removing the invisibility cloak. He cast a _Muffliato_ charm while Hagrid stared at him uncomfortably.

“What can I do fer you perfessor?” asked Hagrid uncertainly. “Want a cuppa? I got some rock cakes here somewheres….” The plank wood table that dominated the middle of the room was covered with what looked like several pheasants in the process of being plucked. Hagrid shoved them aside nervously, creating a small storm of feathers.

“Don’t fuss Hagrid,” said Sev. “I’m not staying. I merely have a question for you.” His eyes felt tight with fatigue. His headache, which had started somewhere in the middle of his sixth year potions class, was getting worse.

“Any news?” Hagrid asked anxiously. “Nothin’s happened to Harry, has it?”

“No, nothing like that,” said Sev, sighing heavily. In spite of what he had said to Hagrid about not staying long, he sat down in one of the hand hewn wooden chairs at the table and sank his head into his hands. Perhaps he should have waited for another day to do this errand, when he wasn’t exhausted, but he had an anxious feeling about things, as if time was running short.

Hagrid set a cup of tea the size of a large soup bowl in front of him, then turning to the cupboard for a moment returned with a whiskey bottle and tipped in a generous shot. Sev wrapped his hands around the bowl of hot liquid and drank deeply. The tea was fragrant and delicious, the whiskey fortifying. He felt immensely better after the first sip.

“What’s wrong, then perfessor?” Hagrid asked again, sitting down heavily in a chair opposite him, causing the floorboards to tremble ever so slightly. “Ya look like hell, if ya don’t mind my sayin’.”

Sev took another long sip of the soothing tea. “I need to talk to the centaurs,” he said, looking up into Hagrid’s black eyes.

“The centaurs?” repeated Hagrid. “What d’ye need with them?”

“I…..It’s of a personal nature,” said Sev stiffly. He picked a stray feather off his cloak.

“All right,” said Hagrid, looking back at him evenly. The fear that had been in his face earlier was replaced with concern. “No problem, perfessor. I can set that up fer you. Is everything all right?”

“I…..I hope it will be,” said Sev. He took a final swallow of the tea. He hadn’t really made a dent in the volume of liquid, but his headache seemed to be receding, nonetheless. He rose to go.

“I’ll send word then,” said Hagrid. “Once I’ve got in touch with them?”

“Yes. Thank you Hagrid. I appreciate it.”

“No worries,” said Hagrid. “Dumbledore always trusted me with his personal stuff.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure he was right to do so.” Sev put on Moody’s cloak and disappeared once again under it. “I’ll leave by the back, shall I?”

*********  
When Sev got to Spinner’s End at last and opened the back door the smell of cooking overwhelmed him. A large pot on the stove emitted steam and Ron and Hermione were fussing over it. Hermione had a large spoon in her hand, her cheeks flushed with the heat of cooking. Her hair was a frizzy cloud around her. She looked more relaxed than Sev had ever seen her. Ron turned to Sev as he came in, and gave him a grin and a thumbs up.

“Hi professor,” said Hermione.

“Lupin’s just starting to stir,” Ron informed him.

Sev made his way past them and up the stairs, his need to see Remus stronger than any other consideration, such as hunger or basic civility. He opened the door to their room cautiously to find Remus sitting up in bed, pale but awake. The bedside lamp was on, the fire burning low in the grate. Remus smiled up at him and gestured for him to come over.

Sev stretched out, fully clothed on the bed beside him, put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. He felt the tight knot of worry that had been in his chest all day relax. His hand went to the bump, though the baby was quiet now. Remus turned to kiss him and Sev felt relief flood his body, relief to know that Remus was all right, and to have him back in his arms.

“You okay?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” said Remus, stretching. Sev heard his joints popping, as if settling back into place. “You?”

“Fine. Tired is all. Long day.”

Sev almost drifted off there, with Remus warm and breathing beside him, the fire softly crackling, the movements and voices from down below drifting up, along with the delicious smell of the soup. The baby turned under his hand.

“Have you been up to the bathroom?” he asked Remus.

“Not yet. Would you help me?”

So Sev steered the considerable bulk of Remus up to the bathroom and back, and then Amanda and Gavin were at the door of their room, peering shyly in.

“Is Mr Moony better?“ Amanda asked.

Remus smiled up at them. “Yes I am,” he said. “C’mere you two.” They snuggled in, Amanda beside Remus, Gavin next to Sev and then Ron was there bearing bowls of the steaming soup, chicken with noodles, that was, he proudly explained, the way his mother made it when someone was ill - or almost as good.

After they ate, Sev turned on a Muggle football game and they all ended up watching it together, Gav and Amanda snuggled in the big bed with Remus and Sev, Ron and Hermione leaning against each other on the floor at the foot of the bed, Hermione trying to explain the rules to Ron, who was mystified by the appeal of a game with no broomsticks and only one ball.

Harry stood apart, restless, looking down at the street below, until he saw a dark figure, a flash of red hair caught in the street lamp, and slipped out of the room quietly to meet her.

***********

Outside of Manchester the rally had been a huge success, attended by thousands, the streets overflowing, the angry crowds raising fists, shouting slogans. Afterwards the pubs had filled up with young people, increasingly loud, increasingly angry. Dudley and Draco had blended in with the crowd, dressed by Tonks in black leather jackets, ripped jeans and steel toed combat boots. They had drifted about, chatted with different people, tried to figure out who the main leaders were, who was the most popular and respected. Dudley in particular, with his bulk and swagger, had found himself well liked, the other young men in the crowd took a shine to him, and took him easily into their confidence.

Now Dudley nursed a beer in the crowded, noisy pub. He had to keep his wits about him. He glanced about, looking for Draco as the noise level in the room rose. There was an argument escalating over a game of darts. Finally, he saw him, chatting with a pretty blond girl on the other side of the pub. There was another girl beside her, dark haired, curvy, with deep brown eyes. Draco drank deeply from his pint. He caught Dudley’s eye, gestured him over, but Dudley turned away. He continued to circulate through the crowd, sipping at his beer, glancing over at Draco occasionally, who was making short work of his own pint. Dudley watched as Draco moved gradually closer to the smiling blond girl, until there was no space left between them at all.


	30. Privet Drive

The snow and ice were gone from the yard. The days were pale and bright, with high clouds in a pearly sky and a fresh sharp breeze from the west. Gavin and Amanda did lessons with Remus in the mornings then went out and ran and shouted on the dead yellow grass of the back garden, while Remus worked in the greenhouse, or started clearing away old weeds and brush in the beds outside.The plants in the greenhouse grew riotously in the strengthening sunshine. The snargaluffs were over three feet tall. The bluish hellebore plants were covered with tight buds, getting ready to burst forth.

Remus set lessons for Harry, Ron and Hermione as well, although they seemed distracted. They spent hours sequestered in the library, working on a plan they would not share with Remus and Sev.

Harry met with Reb Eleazer every other day. Often Ron and Hermione would accompany him, all three disguised in glamours of increasing creativity - teenage girls out for a bit of shopping, or grey haired American tourists, wearing white trainers, cameras swinging. They went out as dreadlocked Jamaican boys, or a Japanese family on holiday, with Harry as a tiny dark haired girl clinging to her mother’s hand.

As his pregnancy progressed Remus found himself increasingly slow and heavy. His belly which had seemed so big before, was bigger. He took to napping in the afternoons, curled like a cat around the baby in a patch of southern sunshine on Amanda’s bed.

One bright morning, the air was so warm and the sunshine so bright that Remus had been compelled to open the small glass windows at the top of the greenhouse, lest it overheat. He was hanging wash outside, pegging up sheets and towels in the fresh breeze. Amanda and Gavin were playing with an old soccer ball they had found in the dried weeds behind the greenhouse. Suddenly, an owl dropped from the sky. It landed on one of the clothesline poles and hooted. Remus took the parchment it held in its beak cautiously.

He recognized the old fashioned, spidery copperplate at once. It was Sev's handwriting. The message was short. _My office. Tonight, 11 PM. Important. Bring H.’s cloak. Dress warmly._

*********

Sev was seated at the small desk in his private study, grading papers and keeping nervous track of the time. He had been busy and he hadn’t seen Remus in several days. There had been Death Eater meetings nearly every night. Voldemort was consolidating his forces. The Dark Lord was wound up, and his energy was intense. War was coming soon, Sev had no doubt. Sev himself had been sent up north to review preparations at the Werewolf camp. He’d had to parley with Fenrir Greyback, in a close, low ceilinged room lit by one stark overhead bulb and filled with the rank smell of old blood. He had been sent further north, to a grim barren camp in Scotland, closely guarded by dementors, where inferi were in production. He had sat in meeting after meeting, his secrets closely guarded, fortified by Kabbalistic spells. Bellatrix stared at him across the table, her eyes glittering. He knew she was watching him closely, waiting for him to make a mistake, patient as a spider.

Now he heard a distant clock start to chime, and glanced at the mantel clock above the fireplace anxiously. Just gone 11:00. The flames in the grate crackled, then turned green for a moment, and Remus entered the room.

Sev was up in an instant, catching Remus as he stumbled out of the fireplace and overbalanced. He helped him straighten, brushed the soot off his cloak. It was so good to have him near once again. Sev swept the hair off his forehead. It had grown longish, hanging in elf locks around his face. They both needed haircuts. Their mouths met, and Sev pulled Remus close, if only for a moment. He wanted him now, of course he did, but they hadn’t time.

“Have the cloak?” he asked, a bit breathlessly, when they came up for air.

“Yes,” replied Remus. “Where are we going?”

“The centaurs,” replied Sev. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out Moody’s invisibility cloak and put it on. “We’d best get started,” said his disembodied voice. “Let’s go.”

***********

The path through the Forbidden Forest twisted and turned, becoming rougher as it went along. It was a cold early spring night. The wind whistled through the bare branches of the trees. The ground, hard and frozen underfoot, rang out with their footsteps, the waning moon, newly risen, cast its silvery light. Sev and Remus had removed their invisibility cloaks when they entered the forest. Remus knew these woods - he had spent his youth running in them, accompanied by a stag, a rat and a large black dog. Occasionally they had run into centaurs. Now, as the trail rose, and became steeper, he sensed that they were nearing their camp.

He paused at the top of a ridge and looked about him, breathing hard. There was a sharp stitch in his side and he felt a deep heaviness pulling at his lower belly and his tailbone. Sev turned to him , the concern etched in his face visible in the bright moonlight, but Remus shook his head. He tried to smile. “I’m fine,” he panted. “Just…..winded.” The woods lay spread out below them, rustling darkly in the wind and the moonlight. Sev went to put his arms around him, but Remus held up a hand, holding him back, and gestured with his head. A centaur stood at the edge of the small clearing, his creamy flanks glowing.

“Firenze,” they both breathed at once.

He stood, proud and tall in the moonlight, his white blond hair rippling behind him like a mane.

“Greetings, Wolf,” Firenze said. “Hagrid has informed me that you require the help of the centaurs.”

“Yes,” whispered Remus, looking up into his eyes. They were icy blue, like the sky on the coldest winter day, and they moved kaleidoscopically, with flecks of white and black. “I do.”

“We do not usually offer our help to one such as you,” Firenze observed, looking off across the trees, with those far seeing eyes. “A human with the curse of the wolf upon him.”

“I…..I know that,” said Remus. “But you know me. I have run in these woods……”

“Since you were a pup,” Firenze said, finishing his sentence for him. “Yes, I remember. You and your companions. We let you have free passage, in those years.”

“Remus had the trust of Albus Dumbledore,” said Sev, stepping forward to stand beside him. “He attended the school and graduated with honors. He was a Hogwarts professor.”

“All this, I know,” said Firenze. “And I also know that you are with child.”

“Yes, “ said Remus. “I…….I need your help, with the birth.”

“Your healers cannot help you?” Firenze asked.

“I am in hiding,” said Remus. “The Dark Lord has a price in my head. And the healers at St. Mungo’s are under his control.”

“I see,” said the centaur. Remus looked into his icy blue, swirling eyes and felt time stand still around him, his fears and concerns reduced to a mere thread in the grand tapestry of life that the centaur saw spread out before him. After a moment that may have gone on for hours, the centaur turned his eyes to Severus.

“And you, Headmaster. A trusted confidante of the Dark Lord. You take a substantial risk being here.”

“My entire life is one risk after another,” Sev said. He returned Firenze’s gaze, and put an arm around Remus’ shoulders, in an attempt to make his position clear. “I have worked against the Dark Lord for many years. Remus and I are allies. He is my friend and my…... my lover. I will do what I need to do so that this baby can be born safely.”

Firenze looked at him and inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring in the moonlight. “I catch the scent of the panther on you,” he said, and shuddered. “Another predator.” He turned to Remus.

“And will the child be born with the taint of the wolf?” he asked.

“I…..I don’t know,” Remus confessed.

Firenze looked up to the stars, as if he were reading the portents hidden there. The chill wind rustled the trees. Somewhere far off they heard the hoot of an owl. Sev stood with his arm around Remus, anchoring them together. At last Firenze turned, and reached into the quiver of arrows behind his back. He removed a small bundle of herbs, and handed it to Remus.

“Albus Dumbledore was respected among the centaurs. As you had his approbation, so you have ours. Make a tincture with these herbs and drink it every morning.” He looked Remus up and down critically. “About a thimbleful should do. Return here when it is time for the child to be born. The centaurs will come to your aid.”

“Thank you,” said Remus, looking into his eyes. He didn’t really want to look away. As long as he held that gaze, he knew that the world would continue to unfold exactly as it was meant to be, each action, each breath of wind, sending out a ripple of effects that constantly shifted and changed the destiny of all things. He felt a profound peace, knowing this, his own life of heartbreak and worry and hope just one ripple in a great intersecting pattern. At last Firenze looked away. “May peace go with you, Wolf,” he said as he parted. “May the remainder of your confinement be an easy passage. “ He turned and started walking into the woods, but paused and looked back over his shoulder at the two of them.

“Know that the centaurs are watching your war closely,” he said, as he departed. “Know that the centaurs hope that you will prevail.”

After Firenze left they stood together in the moonlit clearing. They looked at each other, their eyes met. Remus’ eyes were warm, filled with love, in the cold moonlight. He put his arms around Sev and pulled him in close, and kissed him on the mouth. “Thank you Sev,” he whispered. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Sev replied, smiling down at him. “We’ve got to get that baby out, one way or another.”

“Yes,” said Remus, kissing him again. “Now let’s go back to your rooms and have a shag in that fancy bathtub of yours."

“Okay,” said Sev, kissing him back with feeling. “Yes. Let’s do that.”

**********

The chilly wind whipped the branches of the trees. It blew about dead leaves and stray bits of trash that filled the alley behind the old cathedral in the town square. Harry stood in the shadow of a doorway, shivering, waiting. At last, with a soft pop, Ginny appeared.

As usual, it was so good to see her, it was like the sun coming out in his dark and lonely heart, filling him with warmth that spread from his chest to the tips of his toes. He took her in his arms and kissed her and for a few moments that was all there was. At last, they broke apart, and Ginny grinned up at him.

“Missed me?” she asked.

Harry had missed her so much he didn’t really have the words to express it, so he just nodded and grinned back at her.

“Let’s be getting on with it, then,” she said.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “We should both be in a glamour.”

They had fun, putting glamours on each other - Harry a curvaceous blond with heels and deep green eyes and Ginny as her somewhat chubby, worshipful boyfriend, complete with a few spots of late adolescence. Feeling secure in their disguises they emerged from the alley behind the cathedral, hand in hand, and started walking out of the town and down a country lane.

Harry didn’t quite know why he had asked Ginny to accompany him on this mission but now he was glad that he had, her hand warm in his, her presence reassuring as they walked along the quiet country road. It wasn’t far, and it seemed they had plenty to talk about, and soon they saw the lights of Little Whinging over the horizon.

How strange to be back here, with Ginny by his side. He led her down the high road, past the school yard, where Dudley and his gang had terrorized him as a child, past the play park where he had spent many hours of boredom, cut off from the wizarding world in the summers, feeling like the loneliest person on earth. They walked past Magnolia Crescent, where he had first spied Sirius as a large and terrifying black dog and where, years later, he and Dudley had confronted two dementors. They turned a corner into Privet drive, which was completely devoid of people, each family tucked behind their curtains, watching television. The wind rattled the dry branches of the trees, the street lights gave off their weird orange glow. Harry shuddered and led Ginny past the gleaming new car in the drive to the back garden. Once there, they removed their glamours and Harry went to the back door and rapped as hard as he could, the sound almost drowned out in the windy night.

They heard deadbolts turning, several of them, and the door opened on a chain. Aunt Petunia’s pale blue eye looked out. She started, when she saw Harry.

A minute later the door opened, Harry heard her removing the chain, and a slice of white light from the kitchen fell across Harry and Ginny.

“In, quickly,” said Aunt Petunia in a hoarse voice. Her face was very pale.

Harry stood in the glaringly clean kitchen and held Ginny’s hand, while Aunt Petunia looked them over. The refrigerator hummed and the silence in the kitchen grew.

At last Aunt Petunia sat heavily down in a chair and passed her hand across her eyes. “For a moment, I almost thought - I’d seen a ghost.” She shook herself. “But never mind that.” She glared at Harry. “What is it you want?”

“I…...I’ve a message from Dudley.”

“Dudley?” she said and turned even paler. “Is he….. All right?”

“He’s fine, “ Harry said. “He just wanted you to know…. He’s away.”

“Gone….” said Petunia, hollowly. “Did that Tonks woman come for him then?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Yes. She did.”

“He said he would go. Said they had a job for him…...up north.” She reached for Harry’s hand suddenly, so suddenly he started back. In his entire life, he could not remember Petunia ever touching him. He recovered after a second and let her clutch at his hand.

“He wanted to go,” she said. “Wanted to do his part. I couldn't talk him out of it.”

“You…..you should be proud of him,” said Harry, holding her hand uncomfortably. “He….he’s doing something very brave.”

“But…...but dangerous.”

“Well, yes…...but necessary.”

Petunia stared at Harry a long moment. “We hate That Bastard,” she said. “We wanted to do our part. But Dudley…..he’s so young….I never meant for it to be him.”

Harry squirmed at the fear and uncertainty he read in her eyes. He didn’t know what to say.

A crashing sound came from the hallway outside the door and a moment later Uncle Vernon was in the room.”Petunia,” he bellowed “Where’s my….”

Whatever he wanted from Aunt Petunia was lost in the stunned silence that followed as his eyes fell on Harry.

“You!” he said, pointing a shaky finger at Harry. Harry and Ginny watched as his face turned white then slowly darkened to pink, then red, then puce. “Boy! What are you doing here?” His voice was a dangerous whisper.

“Vernon,” said Aunt Petunia, in a warning voice. “He just….”

“Just what?” said Uncle Vernon, his voice rising with each word, “Just come back to finish ruining what’s left of our lives?”

“Vernon, said Petunia. “It isn’t actually his fault.”

“To hell it isn’t!” Vernon roared. Uncle Vernon staggered across the shining clean kitchen floor until his boozy breath was right in Harry’s face, and Harry saw, with a sickening sense of familiarity, the vein pulsing in his temple. “Not his fault, is it? Not his fault that I’ve lost me job? Not his fault that Dudders has gone and run off? Not his fault that we’re living like rats in a hole, afraid to show our faces, taking in other weirdos, just like him, while That Psychopath hunts us down like vermin? Not his fault?” Beside him, Ginny squeezed his hand and Harry realized that he wasn’t a child any more, and no longer under this cruel man’s power.

Vernon poked him in the sternum. “I’d…” poke.

“Bloody….” poke.

“Well say….” poke.

“That it’s his….” poke.

“Fault.”

Harry straightened and took a step backward, out of the range of Uncle Vernon’s poking finger and his breath that smelled like a brewery.

“Dudley just wanted me to tell you,"  he said evenly. “He wanted you to know that he was gone, up north to spy for the Order. That he went willingly. That he’s doing his part.”

Vernon stood and stared at him, and something in him seemed to deflate. “Just go,” he said, in a hoarse whisper. “Go, boy. And don’t you ever show your face here again. I'm done with you, d’ye hear? Done.” He stumbled over to the kitchen sink and leaned against it, turning his back to Harry and Ginny.

Aunt Petunia looked from her husband to Harry with a helpless sort of look. “You’d best go, Harry,” she said.

“Fine,” said Harry, and turned toward the door.

Uncle Vernon turned his head “You stole my son from me boy!” he shouted , and Harry saw that he held a large china plate in his hand. “You and yours. Don’t ever come here again. I never want to see your face!” He pitched the plate at Harry, but his aim was off and it shattered against the wall. He pulled another plate from the sink, and turned to aim, the look on his face maniacal, as Harry pulled Ginny out the back door and slammed it shut behind him. They stood there, breathing hard, and heard the sound of the plate shattering against the door, followed by the deadbolts snapping into place, one after another. They walked quickly as they could, across the garden through the back gate, but when they got to the alley behind the house Ginny held him back. The blazing look was in her eyes and her arms were around him and her lips were warm and sure and for a long time that was all that mattered. Harry held her and kissed her as if she were salvation itself. At last they broke apart. Ginny was looking at him with a look he couldn’t quite read. Hard. Even. Intense.

“Those are the people that raised you?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Harry. He felt embarrassed, but he couldn’t look away.

“They’re…...horrible,” said Ginny.

Harry shrugged. What could he say? He knew only too well, how horrible they actually were. Ginny had really just scratched the surface.

“Those are your relatives?” she asked, incredulously. “The Muggles, that you had to go back to every summer?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “They are.”

Ginny grabbed him and kissed him, as fierce as he had ever seen her. “You’re not going back there any more,” she whispered. “Not ever.”

“No,” agreed Harry fervently, holding her as close as he could. He felt his love for her well up, and his chest was tight, and he worried, for a moment, that he might cry. He realized that he had brought her with him tonight because he wanted her to see - where he came from, what it had been like, what he had been through. “I’m not,” he whispered back to her. "Not ever.”

**********

Beneath the thin, flowered coverlet Dudley lay in the darkened room, the curtains drawn. They were staying in a seedy hotel on the outskirts of Manchester. The room was narrow, panelled in a sticky brownish wood, the narrowest possible aisle separating the squeaky twin beds. He tossed and turned and could not sleep. Draco was out with the pretty blond girl that he had met at the pub the other night.

At last Draco entered the room. He turned on the dull, overhead light and stretched out on the other twin bed, his hands behind his head and stared up at the dusty ceiling.

“You awake?” he asked Dudley

“Yeah.” Dudley reached over to the bedside table, lit two cigarettes and handed one to Draco.

Draco just grinned at him.

“You shag her?” Dudley asked.

“Yeah,” said Draco, and inhaled deeply.

“How was it, then?” asked Dudley, hollowly. He supposed he should be glad for his friend, for his conquest, but that was not how he felt at all.

Draco didn’t answer, though. Truth be told, he had been pretty hammered, and it had gone pretty quickly. His memory of the whole thing was fuzzy. He was sobering up now, though.

“We’re leaving in a few days,” Dudley commented. “Off to Leeds.”

“Yeah,” Draco stubbed his cigarette in the full ashtray on the nightstand, got up and went down the hall to the loo.

“Get the light wouldja?” said Dudley when he returned. Dudley rolled over onto his side, facing the wall and pulled the grungy quilt around his shoulders.

Draco stood there for a moment and seemed to consider things, then the light clicked off and the room was cast in darkness. Dudley heard the bedsprings creaking as Draco got into the other bed.

It was quiet in the room, and dark, but both boys lay awake for a long time before sleep finally overtook them.


	31. The Army of the Dead

The moon was waxing, nearly half full, and that made the inmates of the werewolf camp, recruits and prisoners alike, edgy. Greyback’s elite, the force he had personally recruited and trained, were in the narrow bunkhouse, fidgety and bored. They wanted action, a target for the restlessness and violence that boiled within them, worse as the moon waxed toward full. Among the gin bottles, the cigarettes and the cards, fights broke out, noses were broken, blood spilled. Their agitation would grow until the night of the full moon, when they would let loose upon the countryside, in search of blood.

The prisoners in their cells, those who had not been willing to join with Greyback and the Dark Lord, shook the metal bars of their cages, shrieked and screamed, knowing the coming moon would cause them nothing but agony.

Their screams rose on the chill wind that blew through the camp, carrying them up to the narrow rise where Severus stood beside Voldemort. On Voldemort’s other side stood Thorfinn Rowle, who had recently ascended in the ranks of the Death Eaters. He had found favor with the Dark Lord because of the success he and his uncle had been having in recruiting Muggle skin heads to their cause, fomenting unrest and bringing Britain close to a state of war. There were now bombings and other forms of terrorist attacks almost daily, reinforcing Voldemort’s theory that the best way to deal with the Muggles was just to encourage them to kill each other off.

They stood on a limestone ridge, outside the barbed wire and electric hum of the camp, away from the rank, fetid odor of old blood and caged animal that dominated the miserable place. Sev had shuddered when he caught a whiff of that smell. It reminded him of the night of Remus’ rescue. A lifetime ago, for him. Everything was different now, of course. His heart ached at the thought of the tortures that Remus had endured here.

The moon was a thick crescent, riding high in a clear starry sky. The wind whipped Sev’s cloak against his legs. It felt as though it was whipping right through him. At Spinner’s End it was getting to be spring. The grass was turning green. The daffodils which had survived and spread through the years, were blooming in cheery yellow patches along the back wall of the house, where the southern sun was strongest. But here, on this windy moor there was no hint of spring. Ice was frozen in dirty puddles, snow was scudded against tufts of dry grass, making little hillocks on the barren dirty soil. The wind was fierce and cold.

Sev checked his defenses. He had recited the kabbalistic spell when he had been summoned. He felt the magic in him now, smoky and dense. He felt rooted, drawing on the strength of the earth beneath his feet. His wall was secure. He would be all right.

The Dark Lord stood half a head taller than Severus, who was a tall man. Standing beside him like this, his white, snake like face expressionless, Sev sensed how skeletal he was, how cold. It was not like standing beside a living, breathing person at all. He was fleshless, all skin and bones, knit together with a steely magic. He was simultaneously both frail and powerful. The wind gusted and he staggered for a moment, as if it might topple him. Sev grabbed for an elbow, to steady him, but Voldemort shook him off, and Sev sensed his disapprobation.

The werewolves were gathering in a slovenly crowd below them. They were restless, antsy, tussling among themselves.They formed an uneven half circle, facing the rise where Voldemort stood, flanked by Sev and Rowle. Fenrir Greyback circulated among them, breaking up fights, encouraging them to be patient. Then the prisoners were led out in chains. Scrawny, dressed in rags, heads down, defeated, they were led to the front of the group and seated on the ground, where they huddled in the cold wind and shivered.

Sev smelled the inferi before he heard them. A stink of rotting flesh, sour earth, and mold. Then he heard the faint hissing murmur of their movements. His eyes caught an inky shadow, which magically concealed them, as they moved across the moonlit plain. Sev felt the chill of the dementors guarding them, darker shadows on the shadowy landscape. The shadow approached the gates of the werewolf camp, and as it passed through the wards, it fell away. The inferi were revealed, scrawny, their flesh hanging off their bones. Their hair was greying, unkempt and flyaway (hair grows after death, Sev recalled). They were dressed in loose tunics with the image of the dark mark, the skull with the snake coming out of its mouth, stamped across the front of each one. They carried banners with the emblem of the new movement, the snake rising to battle a lion. On and on they came, a silent ragged army with pitiless, blank eyes.

Lucius Malfoy had been tasked with transporting the inferi. It had been offered as a chance to redeem himself, and get back into Voldemort’s good graces. Bellatrix was accompanying him, as a kind of guard. They were the last to come out of the cloud of darkness and through the gate.

Lucius looked, if anything, more pale than usual. Sev was immediately struck by how much he resembled his son, and was distracted, for a moment, with worry over Draco. He pulled himself together - he couldn’t afford to think about Draco right now. Severus saw a dementor pass by Lucius, and saw him shudder involuntarily. Sev himself shuddered in empathy.

“All hail the Dark Lord,” Lucius cried, raising his left hand. And the inferi, as one, raised their left hands and chanted, “All hail the Dark Lord,” in hollow empty voices, like the wind whistling through a graveyard. Behind them the werewolves, their restlessness now quelled, also raised their hands. “All hail the Dark Lord!” they shouted. Bellatrix, her hand raised, looked up at the ridge. Her eyes locked onto Sev’s. Her face was filled with more hatred than he had ever seen on it. He knew she resented his place, to the right of Voldemort, while she was forced to do the work of a foot soldier. Sev shuddered inwardly. He knew Bellatrix was going to move against him soon. He looked back at her placidly, the smoky kabbalistic magic dense in his bones.

Lucius lowered both his hands, palms down, fingers outspread, toward the ground. The inferi sank as one being. They sat in rows on the cold bare earth, legs crossed, motionless, stinking of death. They would remain that way, stationary, needing nothing, until instructed to rise again.

Beside Severus, Voldemort raised his left hand in return. He revealed no emotion, but Sev could sense his excitement and pleasure. Lucius Malfoy looked up at them, his face filled with supplication and hope. He grinned a maniacal grin.

“When the giants arrive, and the humans join us, we will be ready to move,” Voldemort murmurred.

“Soon, My Lord,” said Thorfinn Rowle. “Very soon, indeed.”

The wind gusted, delivering the rank smell of the werewolf camp to Sev’s nostrils, and his gut twisted with nausea and fear.

**********

Sev came through the floo in the upstairs bedroom at Spinner’s End, where Remus was already in bed for the evening, quill in hand. He was taking notes out of a dusty looking tome with a picture of a bloody hand on the cover titled _Magick Moste Evil._

Remus smiled up at him happily, but Sev, who had been fighting down his nausea for hours, put a hand to his mouth and ran for the bog. By the time Remus had hauled himself out of bed and was standing in the bathroom doorway Sev was kneeling on the floor, vomiting into the toilet.

“Oh, love,” said Remus.

“Sorry,” said Sev looking up at him. He got up shakily, went to the sink and leaned on it. He looked into his own pallid face. His eyes were dark circles, his too long hair hanging in damp wisps about his hollow cheeks. He rinsed his mouth, spat the taste of vomit into the sink. He splashed cold water on his face. “It was the smell that got to me,” he said. 

Remus came from behind him and snaked his arms around his waist, buried his mouth in Sev’s neck. “What happened?”

“I…..don’t want to talk about it,” Sev said. He turned and kissed Remus full on. He needed him. He wanted him all at once. He didn’t feel as if he could hold back at all. For a little while, he just wanted to lose himself…...to not think. The kabbalistic magic was still in him,making his bones heavy and dense, rooting him to the earth but also making his want deeper, more urgent. “Can’t we just…..talk after? Please, Remus….I need you……..now….I……..I don’t want to wait.” He ran his hand up and down Remus’ back, pulled him close, the bump pressed tight between them, like a hard ball.

“All right,” said Remus, and Sev felt gratitude flowing through him. Without another word, Remus unclasped his cloak, the dragon clasp, then his robes, and slid them down so his clothing was a black puddle around them on the green tiles of the bathroom floor. He went over and locked the bathroom door. He turned on the shower, then in one smooth motion, he took his nightshirt off over his head and stood naked before Sev, and Sev saw just how big his belly had gotten. His cock was hard underneath it, sticking straight out. He looked like some kind of ancient fertility figure. Like a hermaphrodite god.

“You’re……quite a sight, Lupin,” Sev breathed, swallowing hard.

Remus smiled at him wryly. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “C’mon.” He went to Sev and started undoing his belt. “Get in.” He helped Sev out of the rest of his clothes. They got in the shower together and then it was just hot and fast and good. Sev lost himself in the pleasure of it all - he needed to lose himself - the warm water, the steam, Remus’ hands and mouth on him, Remus slicking him with soap, Remus inside him, taking him from behind, Sev's hands braced against the slick green tiles, with Remus’ hands clasped on top of them, his hot sharp breath on the back of Sev’s neck, the shower curtain, billowing out around them, and the water pounding down.

*********

Afterwards they staggered into bed, wrapped in towels, and held each other while Sev told Remus about the march of the inferi, and the werewolf army, Voldemort and his pleasure in the rise of his forces, Bellatrix and her hateful stare.

“War is coming,” Sev said. “Coming soon. Nothing we’ve seen yet is going to come close.”

“It sounds horrible,” said Remus. Sev’s hand drifted down towards his belly, where he stroked and prodded absently, but the baby was quiet. “How’s….little what’s his name?”

“He’s good,” said Remus. “Quiet, now.”

“We have to win,” said Sev. “For him. We have to make…...a world he can live in.”

“I know,” said Remus, shaking his head. “It’s a pretty grim picture, though.”

Sev felt a tiny foot, kicking gently against his palm which was flat against Remus’ firm belly. He sighed, and kissed Remus’ temple. “We need to get a crib,” he said. “And…..and some clothes and things. Diapers. Cotton balls. What else do babies need? Toys. Food. We’ll have to feed him, Lupin.”

“Sev, I…….”

“I was thinking, maybe we should clear out the attic, make a room up there for Gav and Amanda, then we can fix up that southern bedroom as a nursery. It’s a nice sunny room, good for a baby, don’t you think? It could do with some paint. I could pick some up tomorrow evening, maybe set Harry and Ron to work. Maybe a nice blue….. “ His voice trailed off as he saw the expression on Remus’ face.

“What?” he asked, suddenly anxious. “Is blue too…...obvious for a boy. Maybe yellow then? Yellow is a good color for a baby’s room, don’t you think?”

“Sev…….I…..”

“What?” Sev asked. “What’s wrong Lupin?”

“It’s just…….” Remus took a deep breath, as if he was diving into cold water. “It’s just….are you sure, Sev?”

“Sure? What are you talking about?”

“Me. Him.” Remus gestured to his belly. “Is this what you really want?”

“I…..obviously this is what I want. I wouldn’t be planning all this if it wasn’t, out of kindness, or pity or some such nonsense. I would assume you know me better than that by now, Lupin.”

“It’s just…..I’ve been out for a long time, Sev.”

“Out?”

“As a gay man.”

“Oh.”

“We haven’t really had to deal with…...the world, these last few months,” said Remus, running his fingers through Sev’s hair. He took Sev’s hand and kissed it. “We’ve been in a kind of bubble, haven’t we? But the world is still out there, and when the war is over, well, we’re going to have to deal with it.”

Sev suddenly felt everything falling away from him “I’m not giving you up, Lupin,” he said, huskily.

“Look Sev, I can’t go back, all right?” Remus said, his voice low and intense. His dangerous voice.`“To…..to hiding, and being afraid, and worrying what people will say if they find out I’m queer. I left all that behind a long time ago. And he…..” gesturing to his belly. “He needs to know….. Who I am, and who I love. And how I live. And…..Sev, it’s not easy.”

“Easy isn’t really important to me,” said Sev, in a low voice. “In case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Yeah, but are you really ready? Ready for all that crap?” said Remus, his nostrils flaring, his eyes suddenly cold and angry. “I mean, you haven’t really experienced it yet, have you? The curious stare, the condescending tone of voice, the tone deaf comment that’s supposed to be nice but just reminds you what an aberration you really are? The judgement. The hate. Because it gets to you, Sev, no matter how sure you feel, about who you are and how you need to love, it gets to you.”

“Lupin,” said Sev quietly. “Do you really expect that I care about what other people think?”

 “It’s not just me, Sev,” said Remus. “It’s the baby too. Little what’s his name. Are you ready to be his dad, when he’s cranky, when he’s teething, when his nappy’s wet? In the middle of the night, when he’s crying, when he’s sick? When he’s a surly teenager? Are you really ready to go to his school, his quidditch matches, his…..his parent teacher conferences, and sit beside me, and be the other dad?”

“I….”

“Are you ready to help him understand, what it means, to have two fathers? That it’s okay to be different? That being true to yourself is more important than what people think?”

Sev sat there and stared at him.

“Are you ready to explain to him, when people call us ponces, faggots, fairies, and help him deal with it? Because those kinds of names - that kind of hate - never goes away, no matter how liberated the world gets.”

Remus took his hand. “Look Sev, I never thought I’d find any kind of love again. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for me…..for…..for us. I love you,” he said, looking Sev in the eye and Sev saw that it was true. “I don’t want this to end. But it’s not just about me, anymore. If it didn’t work out…...if we broke up…..well…..children don’t really recover when a parent leaves.”

“I wouldn’t leave,” said Sev, voice low, eyes downcast. “I’m not leaving him, or you. Do you think, after the way my dad treated me, that I’d leave a child?”

“It’s just….”

“No,” said Sev. He felt anger and frustration rising within him. “I…. what do you think this is, Lupin?” he asked. “Do you think this is….I don’t know what? A shag? Do you think I’m here to get laid? Do you even get it, don’t you see, the risk, that I’m taking every day, to be with you?”

“Love gets complicated, Sev. It can get messy.”

“The way I feel about you isn’t complicated,” said Sev. “It's the simplest thing in the world.”

Remus just looked at him, his face pale.

“Do you even get it?” asked Sev again, angrily. “I’ve never had anything like this. Not ever. I’ve never felt this way about another person. Not ever. This isn’t …..some game I’m playing, Lupin, some idle pastime.” He felt his fury building, all the emotions, all the unanswered questions, all the hope and fear of these long months, coalescing in a ball of anger in his chest. “This doesn’t happen more than once in a lifetime, not to someone like me. You, of all people, should know…. how I’ve lived my life…….How…… how alone I’ve been. Don’t you see what this means to me?”

Remus lay there, head against the pillow, his elf locks tumbling about his pale face. He looked sad, but unmoved. “What about having children of your own?”

“What? Biological children?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Are you sure?”

“I……” Sev rose from the bed and started pulling on his clothes, angrily.

“Sev…..I…..”

“Fine,” he said. He pulled on his pants, did up his belt. “I’ll think about it, all right? If you’re so concerned. I’ll give it a week.”

“A week?”

“Yes. To think it over. To meditate on my deep inner urge to….to procreate….. Or whatever. To decide that I can live my life as a gay man. But it’s not going to change anything.”

“It…..it isn’t?” Remus watched as Sev pulled on his robes angrily and fastened his cloak.

“My mind's made up,” said Sev. “It was made up a long time ago. I want you. I want this baby. I want us to build a life together. I don’t really care about anything else.” He bent to kiss Remus briefly, on the lips. Remus put a hand to his neck, to try to draw him in for more, but Sev pulled away.

“I’ll see you in a week,” Severus said. He walked out of the room, and Remus, still feeling that soft, final kiss burning on his lips heard Sev descending the stairs. The kitchen door opened and closed, and he was gone.

 

*********

  
Their last night in Manchester, Dudley and Draco went out with the two girls from the pub. Dudley went somewhat reluctantly, feeling shy and awkward, but Draco encouraged him, and it went fine at first. They had fun, drinking and laughing. Dudley’s date had soft brown eyes and smiled up at him with full lips and he thought she was all right.

Eventually they split up. Draco went off with his pretty blonde date and Dudley brought the girl with the soft eyes and lips back to their room. But by then it was no good. He’d had too much to drink and his head was pounding. He felt he was drowning in all her soft curves and she left in a huff. Dudley lay on his twin bed while the room spun and he felt worse and worse. Eventually, he puked in the metal waste bin. After that he felt a little better. He turned out the lights in the room and cracked the window, letting in the chilly spring air. He sat on the windowsill, looking out at the deserted street scene below, wishing he was back in the greenhouse at Spinner’s End, before everything had got so complicated.

He understood how they felt, these angry young men with nothing much to lose that he spent his days with now. He understood their frustration, their yearning for an outlet for the anger that seemed to always be bubbling under the surface, the need to feel better than someone, anyone, if only for a little while. `

Dudley had heard Mr. Sev say that if it wasn’t for the world of magic he would have ended up just another thug like the ones that hung around the cathedral square, smoking and looking threatening and bored. Well Dudley kind of felt like that too. If he hadn’t run into two dementors in Magnolia Crescent, and then been looked on by a strange old man with penetrating blue eyes, and been told that he was an object of pity, well, he never would have started thinking. And if he hadn’t started thinking, he might very well have ended up as one of those angry young blokes he was currently spying on, venting his rage at any convenient object in a boozy haze.

The door opened, and Draco was in the room, breathing hard. He shut the door and locked it, then stood against it in the semi darkness. The room was partially illuminated by the harsh light from the street, and by the crescent moon riding high in the sky.

“How was your date?” Draco asked. His lips looked bluish, against his pale skin, in the weird light.

Dudley shrugged, gesturing to the pile of sick in the wastebasket. “I guess I drank too much. Too pissed to do do anything.”

Draco gave a snort of laughter, then grimaced when he looked into the wastebasket. He got out his wand, and vanished the vomit with an impatient gesture. Dudley grinned at him.

“Thanks.”

There was a glass of water on the dresser and Draco grabbed it and went over to where Dudley was still sitting on the windowsill and handed it to him. After Dudley had drunk he set down the glass and looked out. Draco stood behind him, looking out over Dudley’s shoulder and for a long moment, they just stood there, until, with a small sigh, Draco put his arms around Dudley’s waist, and Dudley could feel his warm breath on his neck. They turned to each other, and Draco bent to kiss him, and his mouth was soft and warm and filled with yearning.

“I thought you just got laid,” Dudley said, when they paused.

“Yeah,” said Draco. “But I’m up for another go. And I know what a horny bastard you are.” And his hands slid down Dudley’s front to where his hard on was pushing against his jeans and gave a possessive squeeze.

“ _Accio condom_ ,” Draco said. With a crinkle of plastic wrapping, a condom worked its way out of a side pocket in Dudley’s pack and came sailing across the room into Draco’s outstretched hand. Dudley grinned at him and turned to put his arms around the other boy and pull him close.


	32. Baby Clothes

A week isn’t such a long time, not really. But for Remus the following week passed very slowly. The house felt empty, with Draco and Dudley gone, and without Sev arriving home for dinner every few nights. Remus missed him more as the days went on. He tried to hide the anxiety that he felt from Gavin and Amanda, but the children were also subdued. They played outside in the warm spring sunshine, helped Remus dig the beds along the back of the house and the edges of the fence, preparing them for planting. In the greenhouse, the hellebores were in full bloom. Their flowers gave off a sickly sweet scent. The snargaluffs were budding out, about to bloom. The venomous tentacula was growing like mad. It had taken over a whole corner of the greenhouse, rustling its shiny dark leaves threateningly when anyone entered.

The moon was waxing again. Remus felt it in the twitchiness of his skin, an extra sensitivity to bright lights and noise. The wolf preferred the dark, and the quiet. As the moon became fuller he became restless indoors. He was short tempered with Gavin and Amanda. Even the baby, seemed different, relentlessly active. Remus had trouble sleeping at night with the baby tossing and turning inside him, pressing on his bladder. He got up to pee every few hours, then went back to bed and lay there with the harsh orange lights from the street shining in, missing Sev, waiting for sleep.

********

The panther stuck to the shadows, black and velvety, as he made his way along the high cliff. His broad paws moved lightly over the soft springy soil, his claws sprang out to find purchase as he moved swiftly over slippery rocks and gravel. Far below the moon shone on the restless sea that thundered and rumbled against the shore. He moved along the bluff for some time, the cliffs rising ever higher. At last he came upon what he was he had been seeking.

The shoreline gave a sharp curve inward, forming a small deep harbor. At the mouth of the harbor was an island, with a ruin of a castle on it. The island was attached to the shore by a narrow bridge. In the daytime the local historical society gave tours to the smattering of tourists that ventured this far north. At night, the building was deserted except for a lone guardsman.

Silently, the panther crossed over to the island. There was a small guard hut at the far end of the bridge. A coal stove glowed red inside. The guard’s gentle snores mingled with the sound of the surf all around them. The panther proceeded up a narrow path, through a large arched gateway. He crossed the cobblestones of the courtyard on padded feet. He went up a crumbling set of stairs, then another, until he stood on the ramparts, looking out over the moonlit ocean. Below him was a gate to the sea, for unloading cargo, held shut with a rusted padlock.

With a swish of his tail, the panther became a man. Severus had found what he was looking for - a landing place for the giants. The Dark Lord would be pleased. The loud crack as he apparated away startled the man in the guard house awake, but Sev was already gone.

********

Remus woke from his bad sleep to Amanda’s screams from across the landing. He entered the children’s room to find her sitting bolt upright in bed, in the old Slytherin t-shirt she still used as a nightdress. The moon, three quarters full shone in from the back garden, casting the room in its silvery light.

She was shaking, her eyes wide with terror, only gradually focusing on Remus. She allowed him to hold her, burying her head in his shoulder. He stroked her back and eventually, she quieted.

“It was the bad man,” she whispered, into Remus’ neck. “The snake face man.”

“Sshh," he consoled her. “He's not here. He’s far away. And I have my wand. I will never let him hurt you.”

“Where’s Mr. Sev?” she asked, raising her tear stained face to him.

“He’s at work. He’s fine.”

“He hasn’t been here in days and days.”

“It’s only been a week.”

“Did you quarrel with him?” she asked tremulously.

“No, of course not.” Remus found he couldn’t lie to her. “We’re just…..having a little break.”

“Mum and Dad used to quarrel all the time,” Amanda told him. “Every day. Then Dad had to go off and live in London.”

“Well it’s not like that with me and Mr. Sev. He’s just having a think is all. He’ll probably be round tomorrow.”

“Or perhaps even tonight,” came Sev’s voice from where he lurked against the doorframe, a dark shadow in the dark room. He must have entered the house silently, without them hearing him.

“Mr. Sev!” cried Amanda, and she was out of bed with her arms around him.

Sev hugged Amanda and looked at Remus over her head. “Mr. Moony,” he said, nodding to him.

“Mr. Sev,” Remus replied. “It’s ...it’s good to see you.”

“You as well, Mr. Moony.” 

“Had your think?” asked Remus.

“Yes,” said Sev. “Nothing’s changed. I still want it to be…….as I told you.”

“I’m glad,” said Remus.

“You can kiss in front of me,” prompted Amanda. “I don’t mind.”

So Sev took Remus in his arms and kissed him. “It's not complicated,” Sev told him, holding onto him and looking him in the eye.

“No,” Remus agreed, melting into him, letting the goodness of having him back overtake him. “You’re right. It’s simple, after all.” And he kissed Sev back, then rested his head on his shoulder.

“I brought you something,” Sev said.

“A present?”

“A peace offering.”

They made Amanda get back into her warm bed, then Sev showed them what he had brought. He had a gallon of pale yellow paint and a carrier bag full of baby clothes. He stood back and watched while Remus and Amanda went through them, marveling over the tiny t-shirts and onesies, the impossibly small booties and socks, the rompers with forest animals and dragons and quidditch balls printed on them, the fuzzy white sleeper that had a hood with bunny ears.

“I tried to avoid bunnies,” said Sev. “But this looked really warm and well, there wasn’t much choice.”

“It’s adorable,” said Remus. “It’s perfect.” There was a catch in his voice. “Little what’s his name is going to love it. Thank you, Mr. Sev.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Moony.”

**********

They tucked Amanda in and then fell onto the bed in their own room, kissing and kissing.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come back,” Remus gasped. The weight of Sev’s body was so good on him. He wrapped his legs around him and pulled him in tight. He felt the wolfish hunger, rising, strong. “The moon is coming,” he said.

“You didn’t think I’d abandon you for that, did you?” asked Sev, shifting to the side so he could properly kiss Remus’ neck and shoulder.

“I wasn’t sure," said Remus. He rolled back, leaning on an elbow to look at Sev. “I didn't know what to think. I wasn’t….that nice.”

“Everything you said needed to be said,” Sev replied. “You’re right, there’s more at stake than just how we feel about each other.” He pulled Remus in close and started kissing his neck again. “I promise,” he said between kisses, “to never abandon you or the baby. I promise to try to make it work with everything I’ve got. Can’t we just move forward from there?”

“That’s a pretty good promise, Sev,” said Remus kissing him back. They were both becoming breathless.

“I really mean it,” Sev replied, kissing down Remus’ stubbly chin to his adam’s apple.

“What do you want from me in return?” asked Remus pulling away abruptly and looking Sev in the eye. His brown hair was tumbling around his pale face, his amber eyes, focussed and intense, had just the smallest hint of yellow.

Sev returned his look. All at once the room seemed very quiet.

“The same,” Severus said, looking at him steadily. “All I want from you is the same.”

“To try.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe in forever, anymore Sev.”

“That’s okay, neither do I. That’s not what I’m asking you for.”

Remus just looked at him steadily.

“Look, Remus, I know how much you’ve lost, how much we’ve both lost. I know we’re both neurotic and difficult and loaded with baggage. I know there’s a good chance one or both of us will be dead before this war is over. But I don’t want to go on in this life without you anymore. You or the baby. I can’t imagine it, to tell you the truth. So can’t we just….try?”

“Yes,” said Remus looking at him steadily.

“Yes?”

“I will try,” said Remus. “To make it work. To make a life with you. A family.”

“That’s all I want,” said Sev, and pulled Remus close. He knew that was all he could ever expect from Remus, who had seen so much, suffered so much. Who had loved and lost and dared to love again. “That’s all I can ask of you.”

Remus kissed him then, soft and tender, and Sev kissed him back. “I feel like we should exchange rings or something,” Remus said, laughing softly.

Sev kissed him back, and he felt a wild joy rising in him. He worked his hands under Remus’ nightshirt and started stroking his back. He kissed down Remus’ neck to his collarbone, to the corner of his ear. ”Let’s just seal it with a shag,” he said, his voice grown husky.

They worked each other out of their clothes and they made love in the bed where it had all started months ago, started as just sex and then grown into something so much more. Their yearning for each other was so strong, their pleasure in each other so deep, their love so powerful it wasn’t clear where one left off and the other began. And Sev felt as they melted into each other that it had never before been quite so passionate, or so tender, or so true, as it was in that moment.

Afterwards, as Sev was already drifting towards sleep, sated and content, Remus stirred and kissed his temple. “You should name him,” Remus murmurred.

“What?”

“I want you to choose his name. He should have something from you, right from the beginning.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” said Remus. “Really.”

“All right,” said Sev, pulling him close. “I will.”

And then, for a few hours, they slept. Sticky, sweaty, smelling of sex, they descended to deep, peaceful, dreamless sleep in each other’s arms, and then it was morning.

*********

In the gritty towns and cities up north, the pace of things was picking up. Everyday it seemed, there was a new rally, and everyday the anger of the participants seemed to grow. The movement had a name now, the United Front for Britain, a bland name, to be sure, although the agenda of the leaders was anything but bland. The UFB flag, a red figure of a snake battling a lion on a yellow background, was increasingly seen, on t-shirts, bumper stickers and in shop windows. Thorfinn Rowle’s Muggle uncle, a fellow named Rodney Stone, stood on raised platform after raised platform, inciting the anger of the crowd, which stood and screamed and waved red and yellow banners. He fanned their resentment against the government, against foreigners, against big business and whatever else would get them going. Unemployment was at an all time high. The government seemed increasingly inept. Ordinary people were afraid to leave their homes. Almost anyone could become a target of the gangs that roamed the streets every night now, looking for someone to vent their anger on. Shops and libraries had their windows smashed. During one rally, a town hall was raided and set on fire. The demonstrators clashed with police in riot gear. Several times Dudley and Draco had to run, choking, from tear gas, unleashed on the crowd. During one of these clashes Dudley took a rubber bullet in the head, and his ears rang for hours.

At night, they crowded into the pubs, talking, drinking, fighting. Dudley was well liked by the rougher crowd, the Actioneers, they called themselves. They carried sticks, and chains. They sat around high tables in the evenings and poured over gun catalogues together.

Draco gravitated to a different group; thinner, weedier, more cautious. These were the ones who sat around and talked about political theory - elections versus revolution, guns versus bread. Draco found himself invited to strategy meetings, involved in writing pamphlets and press releases, working on features for the group’s web page, answering emails and responding to comments. The ideology was strangely familiar. It wasn’t that different from what he had grown up with in his own Death Eater family.

Every few days they met secretly with Tonks or Kingsley, sharing any information they had gleaned, and the names and descriptions of the emerging leaders.

At night in the pubs, there were girls. Sometimes Dudley took them into a dark hallway, or out into the cool spring air, and kissed them, but he never let it go too far. Sometimes Draco would disappear with someone, often for hours, but he would always return to whatever cheap rented room he and Dudley were sharing. Dudley assumed that Draco was shagging these girls, but he had stopped asking. And it didn’t really matter, because always, after these dates, Draco wanted him, in a passionate and desperate way, and Dudley was only too happy to oblige.

In bed they were increasingly free with each other, and tender, and it was good, so good sometimes, that it was better than anything Dudley had ever imagined he could feel.

Out of bed, they talked about practical things, how to get through the day, where to meet up, where to eat, what town the next big rally was going to be in.

Dudley had gotten used to thinking, but he tried not to think about what was happening between him and Draco. When he did he felt vulnerable, and scared, and he didn’t like that feeling at all.


	33. The Finding Spell

Ron was in the sitting room trying to get the radio to tune in to Potterwatch. “Albus,” he said, tapping on the radio with his wand. “Dumbledore,” he said, trying a different rhythm. “Moody!” Tap tap tap. “Sirius.” Tappity tap tap.

He wasn’t getting very far.

Sev, who was spending a rare evening at Spinner's End was on the sofa before the fire. He had dusted off the book of baby names that he’d bought Remus for Christmas. He was going through it methodically, quill and parchment in hand. Amanda, beside him, looked on with interest. Crookshanks, who had taken a liking to her, purred in her lap.

“Augustus,” Sev said thoughtfully, chewing on his quill. “Antonius.”

“Those are both a bit stuffy, don’t you think?” said Remus from where he sat in the rose colored armchair by the fire, his feet up.

“Probably,” said Sev. “I don’t know. Antonius Breckenridge was a great potion maker of the seventeenth century.”

“Was he now?” said Remus, smiling at him.

“He laid the groundwork for the polyjuice potion. Also Felix Felicis.”

“Mmm,” said Remus. “Maybe. Keep looking.”

“Barilius?” said Sev, flipping forward “Balthazar? Bergood?”

“That means Good Bear,” said Remus.

“Bergood Odenton was a great potion maker of the fourteenth century,” said Sev.

“Oh dear,” said Remus.

“Try going back to front,” suggested Harry from the corner table where he was playing exploding snap with Ginny, while Gavin looked on.

Sev flipped to the back of the book. “Zodion?” he said, somewhat hopelessly. “Zepharia? Zane?”

“If his name starts with zed he’ll always be called last for everything,” said Hermione from the study where she was curled, surrounded by stacks of books and notes.

“Same problem with a name that starts with A,” said Ron wisely. “No one likes to be called first all the time.”

“Oakley,” said Amanda.

“Oakley?” said Sev, flipping back to the middle. “That’s not in the book.”

“It’s a cool name, though,” said Ginny, approvingly.

“Oakley,” said Sev thoughtfully, writing it down. He liked the way it looked on the page. It wasn’t a traditional wizarding name. On the other hand, being called Severus hadn’t really done much for him. “Oakley,” he said tasting it. “We’ll see,” he said.

Over in the corner, Ron let a frustrated sigh. “Remus Lupin!” he shouted at the radio, followed by a complicated series of taps. “Severus Snape!” Nothing.

“Try the Prewetts,” suggested Remus.

“The Prewetts?

“Gideon and Fabian, They were heroes of the first war. We all looked up to them like mad when we were in school.”

Severus snorted. “Some of us did.”

“Gideon Prewett!” shouted Ron, tapping furiously. “Fabian Prewett.”

Nothing.

“Try Regulus,” suggested Sev.

“Regulus?” asked Ron.

“Regulus Black,” said Remus. “Sirius’ brother. He sacrificed his life resisting the Dark Lord.”

“That’s right,” said Ron. “He did.”

“I know,” said Sev, with a shudder, and a dark look crossed his face. “I was there.”

“Regulus Black,” said Ron. He tapped the radio once, and it crackled to life. “Welcome to Potterwatch,” came the voice of Fred Weasley over the radio.

Sev waved his wand , and a piece of paper floated across the room to Remus, who caught it in his hand. On the paper, in Sev’s old fashioned copperplate, was written _Oakley Snape Lupin_ with a question mark.

*********

The next day Harry, Ron and Hermione left for a temple Kessem Shalom in high spirits, shopping list in hand. They were wearing glamours that made them look like typical Londoners, shiny shoes, dark coats. The boys wore skinny ties. Hermione, her hair charmed black and sleek, wore plum colored lipstick. They were going to pick up ingredients for a steak and kidney pie on their way home.

No one noticed the large grey rat that peered at them as they came through the wards, laughing and joking, and apparated away.

********

At Temple Kessem Shalom, Rabbi Eleazer, his crow seated on his shoulder, ushered them into the main sanctuary. He had drawn a large six pointed star on the floor, in the empty space in front of the Bima. Harry was surprised. They usually spent his lessons sequestered in the rabbi’s cluttered office, learning Hebrew, studying spells from mouldering yellow scrolls, practicing mindfulness. Today something different was afoot.

The rabbi made Harry sit on the floor in the middle of the star he had drawn. Ron and Hermione slipped into one of the red velvet benches. The sanctuary was dark and echoey. The shadows in the corners seemed to whisper. Above the Bima, the eternal light flickered and waved.

“Today,” announced Rabbi Eleazer, "we will try the finding spell.”

“Oh,” said Harry. It all made sense now. He had been practicing this spell for weeks, and he was anxious to try it.

“You, in the center, complete the circuit,” said the rabbi, pointing at Harry. “Do you have the locket? The one that was destroyed?” Harry nodded and swallowed hard. He reached into the moleskin pouch, the one that Hagrid had given him, that was always around his neck. He pulled out the broken horcrux and handed it to the rabbi.

The old man placed it carefully on one corner of the six sided star. He reached inside his own robes and produced a large silver ring.

“This symbolizes the ring - the one that was destroyed by Albus Dumbledore.”

He went over to the shelf, picked out a small leather bound book, and set it on another point of the star. ”This is for the diary - the one that was destroyed by the basilisk's fang.”

He waved his wand and a small light weight object came fluttering out of his study. The rabbi caught it in his hand. It was a snakeskin, dry and crinkly. He laid it carefully on the point of the star opposite the broken locket.

“For the snake,” he said. “The Dark Lord’s companion. The one that is yet to be destroyed.”

He snapped his fingers and two blank pieces of parchment appeared in his hand. He set them on the two remaining points of the star.

“Seven horcruxes,” the rabbi said. “Five are known, including yourself. Two are unknown, but you need to know. You have a pressing need.”

“I do,” said Harry hoarsely.

“We will recite the _shehekianu,_ Harry,” said the rabbi, looking at him. “Do you remember it?”

“Yes,” whispered Harry.

“What is its relevance?”

“It’s the prayer for any special occasion. To thank god for bringing us to this moment.”

“That is correct. Say it with me now.”

Harry and the rabbi chanted the ancient prayer together. “ _Baruch atah adonai._ ” The eerie haunting melody filled the room, all the way to the high rafters of the ceiling far above them. The crow on the rabbi’s shoulder, stared at Harry steadily with it’s beady eye. _“Eloheinu melech ha'olam, shchechainu, vekiamanu, vhigianu, laz man hazeh.”_ When they were done, the room tingled with magic.

“The finding spell, Harry,” Reb Eleazer breathed. “Say it.”

Harry stood, in the center of the six pointed star. It was a long spell, and complicated. It had to be chanted just right, with the proper inflection or it wouldn’t work. It had to be chanted with the proper focus and clarity of mind. Harry had been practicing it for weeks. He took a deep cleansing breath. He cleared his mind, as best he could. That was the hardest part. He started chanting. The eternal flame above the Bima flickered, then darkened, though it did not go out. The shadows in the room deepened. Hermione took in a sharp little breath, and grabbed Ron’s hand beside her.

Harry swayed and chanted for what felt like a long time, the ancient trope filling the echoey space. His voice was husky, not really musical, but he hit the right notes. His face was white, his eyes closed in concentration. His scar stood out in his pale forehead.

When the spell was complete the room was silent. The flame above the Bima shone suddenly bright, much brighter than it had been before. The room was filled with a yellow, glowing light, making it appear much warmer and less shabby than it ever had.

The rabbi waved his hand and summoned a quill from the air. He handed it to Harry.

“Don’t speak,” he said. “Draw what you see.”

Harry went over to the blank sheet of parchment that had been set in a corner of the hexagram, and drew for a few moments, then went to the other blank parchment, set on the opposite point, and drew some more. The scratching of the quill on the parchment sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet room.

“ _Accio Gafen_!” the old man cried, when Harry had finished drawing, and the tray with the wine came sailing over. Reb Eleazer poured some into a large wooden cup. _“Baruch atah adonai eloheinu melech ha'olam borei pri hagafen,_ ” he chanted. His voice filled the room, quavery, yet somehow powerful. “The wine seals the spell,” he said. “Drink now.” He took a small sip and then gave the cup to Harry, who drank deeply. When he had done the color had returned to his face. He shook himself and grinned at Ron and Hermione, who were sitting hand in hand on the red velvet cushion of the pew, staring at him with concern.

Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and breathed out. “I’m fine,” he said.

“What did you see?” Hermione asked in a small voice.

Harry went over and picked up the two pieces of parchment from the points of the star and handed them to Ron and Hermione.

On one was a crudely drawn cup, on the other was something that looked like a crown.

“Helga Hufflepuff’s cup,” breathed Hermione. “Just as we thought.”

“What’s this other thing?” asked Ron curiously, squinting at Harry’s drawing, turning it this way and that. “You need to work on your art, mate. This here’s like reading tea leaves.”

“It’s a crown,” said Hermione. “A tiara.”

“Probably Ravenclaw’s,” said Harry. “Every picture of her I’ve ever seen, she’s wearing a crown like that. And it fits the pattern.”

“Did you see where they are?” asked Hermione breathlessly.

“Yeah, I did,” said Harry. “The cup is at Gringotts bank. The crown - well, it’s at Hogwarts.”

The three of them looked at each other. When the rabbi spoke it startled them, they had almost forgotten he was there. “You have done well Harry,” he said. “You have mastered the finding spell.” The rabbi went and took the drawings from Harry. He touched them with his wand and they burst into flame. They watched as the parchment burned to ashes, in his hand. The smoke drifted towards the ceiling. The crow, which had been sitting on Reb Eleazar's shoulder the whole time, gave a loud caw and followed the smoke up to the high ceiling. Harry, who had never looked up at the ceiling of the sanctuary before, saw that it was a painted blue sky, with clouds.

“You remember the joining spell?” said the rabbi to Harry, his voice hoarse.

“I do,” said Harry. Rabbi Eleazer looked back at him, out of his ancient face. He looked tired suddenly, and very frail.

“When the time comes, when the other horcruxes are destroyed, you will use it to finish the Dark Lord.”

“Yes,” Harry whispered.

“Remember what I have taught you,” the rabbi said. “Recite the spell with clarity of mind and strength of spirit. May God’s blessing be upon you.”

And without another word he walked slowly into his office and shut the door.

Harry looked after him for a long moment. Then he bent and picked up the broken locket from where it sat on the point of the star, and put it back in the moleskin pouch.


	34. Giants and Dementors

Harry left Temple Kessem Shalom in high spirits. Finally they were getting somewhere. Feeling secure in their glamours, the three friends wandered the streets of London for a while. It was a warm soft afternoon, the first really nice day of spring. The sun was shining, there was a light breeze blowing and everybody seemed to be in a good mood. They stopped and bought some sausage rolls and lemonade from a stand and walked about, looking at the people all around them, and enjoying the momentary sense of optimism. At last, they stopped into a Tescoes and did the grocery shopping and then, laden down with carrier bags, they apparated to Spinner’s End.

They materialized in the quiet alley. The warm sun and soft air made the usually grubby alley seem like a cheerful and welcoming place. Harry, feeling exceptionally pleased with the results of the day, and the pleasant afternoon he had spent with his friends, reached out a hand to open the gate. Suddenly, the air around them erupted in spells. “ _Petrificus totalus_ ” cried out a harsh female voice, and Harry fell onto the hard pavement in complete body bind. His head hit the ground with a thwack and for a moment everything went black. When he looked up, Bellatrix Lestrange was looking down at him. Her black hair hung in lank tendrils about her head, her dark eyes were shining and she had a maniacal grin of triumph on her face. Behind her, Harry saw the sharp nosed, wispy haired figure of Wormtail.

“ _Revealo_!” said Bellatrix, and Harry felt his glamour melting away. Bellatrix’s smile, grew even wider. He could see her teeth, yellow and rotten, behind her thick lips. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see that Ron and Hermione were likewise lying disabled on the ground.  
.  
“Hello, Potter,” Bellatrix said, her voice heavy with threat. “The Dark Lord is going to be very, very pleased to see you.”

Harry wanted to spit in her face but he couldn’t move.

“Your friend Severus Snape, on the other hand, is not going to be very happy. No, he is not going to be happy at all.” She laughed, a cackle that echoed crazily in the abandoned alley. She was joined in by the wheezy giggles of Wormtail.

“Good thinking, Wormtail,” Bellatrix said, turning to him. “You have done very well. You were right to keep an eye on Snape here. Now we can prove what we have suspected all along, that he is a double crosser and a traitor!”

“I knew he had something going on,” said Wormtail, beaming at the praise. “What now?”

“We take them to Malfoy Manor. We’ll have to set extra wards to guarantee their security. Then, we call the Dark Lord!” Bellatrix laughed again. “We deliver Potter, and bring down Snape, all in one go!”

She gripped Harry by the arm. Her fingers were like iron talons, and cold as ice, and Harry felt the squeeze of apparition taking him away.

***********

Sev and Voldemort stood together on the rampart of the crumbling stone castle, looking out to sea. A chill wind was blowing, the sky a soft gray. The hills around them had the faintest glimmer of green, as if spring were finally about to break through on this distant northern shore. The seabirds called to each other, their lonely cries echoing on the waves.

Sev watched as the rusty iron trawler approached the island. It pulled up to the castle, and blew its horn, the sound reverberating among the surrounding hills, causing the gulls along the shore to rise up in a cacophony of screams and ruffled feathers. With a groan and a clattering of chains the the sea gate slowly lowered. A hatch in the rusting iron ship opened. There was a shuffle of movement inside the dark belly of the ship. Slowly, very slowly, a large hand, the color of stone, gripped the cold iron at the side of the hatch. It was a very large hand, with impossibly long fingers, knobbly knuckles and coarse hairs. The hand was followed by a massive grey head, the size of a six year old child, that peered out at its surroundings stupidly, through small piggy eyes. The creature was nearly bald, with just a few wisps of colorless hair on the top of it’s dome shaped head. It lumbered out of the hold of the ship, straightening to its true massive height, three times the size of a normal man. It stretched, gave an enormous yawn and shuffled into the castle. It was followed by a second, similar figure, and a third. On and on they came, yawning, scratching, belching. Some were scraped and bruised, as if they’d been fighting among themselves down in the hold of the ship. Their rank unwashed odor drifted up to where Sev stood beside Voldemort, and he shuddered inwardly. He didn’t want to end up puking again, but this smell was just dirty, not the corpse-like stench of the inferi, so he’d probably be all right.

They watched in the chilly sea breeze until every last giant had plodded off the ship and disappeared into the castle. Sev could tell that Voldemort, standing beside him, was pleased.

“You have done well, Severus,” he murmured at last. “Finding this place. It will do very well to hide and train my giant army.”

“Thank you My Lord,” Sev murmurred.

“You are my most loyal servant.”

“I live only to serve you, My Lord.”

“There are whispers against you,” Voldemort said. “Those that say you have changed. That you are distracted. But I see no evidence of any disloyalty.”

“My loyalty will never waver, My Lord,” said Sev. His tone was completely calm. Neutral. Secure. “Sadly, there are those that are jealous, ambitious. There will always be whispers. But I shall always be true.”

They were just turning away, out of the wind and into the relative shelter of the castle, when Voldemort staggered and clutched at his arm. Sev looked into those evil red eyes. They shone with sudden excitement.

“My Death Eaters call me,” Voldemort said hoarsely.

“My Lord!” said Sev. Inside his heart started racing. This could not be good.

“Potter!” he cried. “They are only to call me if they have Potter!” He grabbed Sev’s arm with his bony hand. This close, Sev caught the rank scent of death on his breath. “We must go Severus! We must go now!” His eyes glowed brighter, a feral red. He laughed a mirthless laugh and still clutching onto Sev’s arm, they apparated away.

********

They arrived at Malfoy Manor to a scene of utter devastation.

The drawing room looked as if a bomb had gone off. The huge crystal chandelier lay in a heap in the center of the room, surrounded by large chunks of plaster that it had taken with it when it fell from the ceiling. The air was thick with white dust which coated everything - the portraits on the walls, the furnishings, the ornate gilt mirror over the fireplace. The room was a blur of screams and moving bodies. It was impossible to see clearly. Sev heard Pettigrew choking, gasping. He saw Narcissa bent over in a fit of coughing. His eyes lit on Harry. He was clutching what appeared to be an unconscious goblin under one arm, and was gripping a tiny, terrified looking house elf tightly by the hand. Sev’s eyes met Harry’s, just for a second. He saw a flash of silver. Bellatrix had thrown a knife at Harry, but Sev couldn’t tell if it had hit its mark. There was a loud crack of apparition and Harry was gone.

“Nooooooooo!” screamed Bellatrix, her voice echoing crazily around the dusty chaotic room. “Nooooo, My Lord, we had him! We had Potter! You must have seen him! He escaped!” Her face and hands were covered in blood, her hair was white with dust. She threw her large body on the ground, amid the dust and the debris and the broken glass and started beating the ground with her fists and wailing.

In a corner of the room Lucius Malfoy lay unmoving, whether unconscious or dead, Sev could not tell. Narcissa, also covered in blood, was leaning over him, trying to rouse him. Pettigrew was the strangest sight of all. He stood trying to choke himself with his own silver hand. His eyes were bugging out of his head, his face was turning blue. With his other hand he was pulling desperately at the silver hand, the one that belonged to Voldemort, but he was unable to dislodge it from his throat. Sev wondered vaguely what Peter had done to bring this punishment on himself, but he had more important things to worry about at the moment.

“Potter…...escaped…...again?” said Voldemort in a cold voice that silenced Bellatrix’s screams. Only the gaspy, dying breaths of Pettigrew could be heard in the deathly silence that descended on the room at the sound of the Dark Lord's fury.

“Stop that, Wormtail!” Voldemort cried with irritation, and waved his wand at the dying man. The silver hand released from his throat and went flying off the end of his arm and out of sight, leaving a bloody stump which dripped on the dusty ruined carpet. Peter gasped, but his whimpering was silenced by a cold appraising look from the Dark Lord. “You must have done something to betray me, Wormtail,” he said. His voice was like ice. “The hand would not turn on you, otherwise.”

Peter made a bleating sound, half supplication, half terror.

“Never mind, we shall deal with that later,” said Voldemort impatiently. ”How...how is it possible that you allowed Potter to escape yet again?” his voice was measured but the anger behind his words was palpable.

Bellatrix picked herself up and kneeled at Voldemort’s feet. She tried to put her arms about his legs but he batted them away with repulsion.

“My Lord, she moaned. “You saw Potter! You saw him! He was here! He was!”

Voldemort just stood in the middle of the room and looked at her. On his face was a look of fury like Sev had never seen. In the corner, Lucius sat up and rubbed his head groggily.

At last Voldemort spoke. “Yes, Bella. I saw him. For one, brief instant we had him and then…...then you let him slip through your fingers.”

Bella looked down at her hands. The nails were long, pointed, painted blood red. “My Lord,” she gasped, “The house elf! He got through the wards somehow. I didn’t imagine, I never expected…”

“Silence!” cried Voldemort. “Do not bother to explain Bella. It is obvious what has happened. Once again, through your incompetence, Potter has escaped me! You have been outwitted by a mere stupid boy, a handful of teenagers and a house elf. I saw, Bella! I saw your defeat, right before my eyes. This kind of incompetence, this kind of mistake, cannot go unpunished!”

“My Lord,” whimpered Bella. “Please! I beg you! You are my light! My everything! Please!”

Voldemort raised his wand, and his eyes glowed red with rage. Sev wondered if he was going to kill Bellatrix right in front of them all. _“Crucio!_ ” he cried, and Bella went rigid and screamed in pain.

“Wait! “ rasped Peter, holding up his bleeding stump of an arm. “Wait My Lord, wait! There's more to it, isn't there?"

Voldemort lowered his wand and Bella collapsed back onto the floor. Voldemort looked over at Peter and Sev’s heart was gripped with a sudden fear, a premonition.

“What do you mean Wormtail?” he asked. His voice was pure ice.

“Maybe you are punishing the wrong person,” said Peter hoarsely.

“Wrong person?” asked Voldemort.

“Ask her…..” wheezed Peter. “Ask her…..where we found Potter!”

Voldemort turned to look at Bellatrix. She raised her head. There was a trickle of blood coming from her mouth, but there was triumph in her eyes. “We found Potter,” she said, “In the alley behind Spinner’s End. He was just about to walk right through the wards and into Snape’s house!”

Dead silence followed this pronouncement. Sev could hear Bella’s raspy breathing, filling the room. Then Peter Pettigrew started to laugh, a high irritating giggle.

Voldemort turned to Sev. “But what….” he said “was Potter doing in the alley behind your house?”

Before he could block it, an image of that alley flashed in front of Sev’s eyes, a stab of fear for the ones he loved and then Voldemort was in his mind. It was like a wedge had opened up; once started he was reamed wide open. It was all there; Harry’s green eyes looking at him with growing trust, Gavin’s skinny arms around his neck, Amanda’s hand slipped trustingly into his, her warm body, snuggled beside him on the couch, with the cat purring in her lap. Draco, lanky and sardonic, his scornful manner unable to mask the uncertainty in his face. A Christmas tree glowing in the lounge, the smell of dinner in the oven, the chatter of many voices around his kitchen table, the plants quietly growing in the greenhouse. And Remus, of course, Remus everywhere, his hands, his mouth, his cock, his big pregnant belly. His white arse as he bent to pull on his clothes. His amber eyes, focused and intense. The grainy image of the baby on the ultrasound machine. The smile of the shop girl as she rang up Sev’s purchase of tiny clothes.

By the time Voldemort had pulled his mind away from Sev’s he knew he was completely exposed. He knew his life was over. And weirdly, it gave him a strange kind of courage. The Dark Lord was staring at him with an expression of complete shock, his red eyes were dull, the fire in them nearly out. He was confused, Sev saw, hurt and betrayed.

“My…..most …….loyal …….servant,” he whispered, his eyes on Sev. “You have…….deceived me.”

Sev looked back at him, and stood a little taller. He realized in a rush, that he wasn’t sorry. He was glad. He was glad for all of it. Love and joy and a house full of life. Voldemort could hurt him. He could torture him and kill him and go after the ones he loved. Sev had no doubt that he would do all of that. But he couldn’t take away what Sev had forged in the shabby old house at Spinner’s End, a life of of love, whole and true.

Pettigrew was giggling maniacally behind the Dark Lord. “I knew he had something going on! Who’s he shagging then?”

Bellatrix, who had pulled herself to her feet and was standing beside him slapped the side of his head. “Shut up, rat!”

Voldemort staggered backward. The depth of Sev’s betrayal was too much. It would make him appear weak and foolish, to have put so much trust in someone who had so utterly fooled him. He would not, Sev realized, reveal all he had seen, at least not right away.

“My Lord!” Bellatrix cried and ran to steady him.

“Bella!” Voldemort cried and he looked into her eyes, and Sev knew that he was reading her mind, double checking for further betrayal. “You would not forsake me?”

“Never, my Lord!”

Sev saw his opportunity in Voldemort’s momentary confusion. Silently he recited the Kabbalistic spell, summoning the magic from deep under the ground. He didn’t need a wand to do this. His toes curled downward, searching for the ancient source of magic and strength, deep in the earth. It was there waiting for him, heavy and dense. He felt it coming up to meet him, like roots thrusting up from the ground, filling him. He thought of Remus and the baby, and he let the thought of them fill his heart, and the magic flowed, from the earth, right into his chest. It was hot and fiery and powerful. It was like a blaze and he fueled it with the love that he felt, so strong and sure. The wall of occlumency was gone, broken, he had no more need of it. He was who he was, open, exposed, for all the world to see. All the energy and effort he had expended for years, building and maintaining that wall was freed up now. He could use it, and it filled him with power.

Fire burned on his skin. He heard the collective gasp of the assembled Death Eaters as they stepped backward. Sev waved his hand and a deer made of fire leapt from it. He whispered a message to Remus, and watched as it bound away, melting through the wall of the dining room.

Sev turned to leave. Perhaps, against all odds, he would get away. Perhaps he could just walk out of here, blazing with power, too strong for them to stop him. Then he felt it. A cold chill. He heard a familiar, rasping breath, and there were dementors in the room, how many he could not count, but their cold entered his heart and he felt the fire dim, just for a second, but it was enough to weaken him.

 _“Stupefy!_ ” rang out Bella’s cold voice. The spell hit him dead in the middle of his back, and he knew no more.


	35. The Madames Pepper and Spider

When 3:00 came, and Harry, Ron and Hermione hadn’t returned, Remus started to worry. When 4:00 came, his anxiety increased and when the clock struck five he began to descend into a slow panic. He started to making rice and beans for supper, talking to Amanda and Gavin with as much cheer as he could muster. He sent Amanda down to the cellar to fetch a jar of applesauce, to use for pudding. She returned and handed him the jar, her eyes wide with anxiety. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Where’s Harry and the others?” she demanded.

“I don’t know,” Remus replied truthfully, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. Outside the kitchen window purply dusk was falling. “I’m sure they just got distracted. They’ll probably be home soon.”

"We were supposed to have steak and kidney pie."

"Well, we'll just make do with what we have for tonight. We'll make it tomorrow, all right?"

Amanda just looked at him narrowly.

“Mr. Moony!” cried Gavin from the sitting room. Remus and Amanda hurried in to see what was the matter. A doe made of flames had come through the fireplace and was leaping in a circle about the room. It lit the entire parlor with an orange glow. It came to a stop in front of Remus, and spoke.

“ _Harry and his friends were captured but have escaped_ ,” the fiery deer said in Sev’s voice. _“I am undone. Spinner’s End is no longer secure. Leave at once. I love you.”_

 *********

 They went upstairs quickly. Remus sent Gavin and Amanda into their room to pack a few items of clothing in the backpacks that they had brought with them from Andromeda’s house. They were used to being moved about, to sudden disruptions. They packed silently and efficiently. Remus pushed down the rising panic inside him. He had to stay calm, make every second count. There was a good chance the house would be destroyed. There was an old leather satchel in the bottom of the wardrobe. He stuffed in a few items of clothing. From the top shelf of the wardrobe, he grabbed the envelope containing the photos of Lily and Sev’s NEWT certificates and awards. He put the envelope in the satchel, then he stuffed in the carrier bag with the baby clothes that Sev had bought. Downstairs, in the study, he opened the lock box, removed the money, and the letter of introduction to Sev’s aunts. He packed the Kabbalistic texts and his notes into the satchel. Passing through the lounge, he spied the ministry pamphlets on pregnancy and stuffed them in as well. Finally, in the kitchen he reached into a cupboard to grab the herbs that Firenze had given to him.

Gavin and Amanda stood white faced by the kitchen door, hand in hand, wearing the coats that Andromeda had purchased for them. He set a glamour on them, as two surly teenage boys and on himself as their elderly, stout grandfather. They hurried out the back door, down the familiar path and past the greenhouse to the alley. Remus’ heart clenched with regret as he thought of his plants growing in the greenhouse. He would never get to harvest them now, but it couldn’t be helped.

He didn’t dare apparate, with the two frightened children clinging to his hands, and the moon near. They walked to the train station in town, and bought tickets to London with the cash Sev had left him. It seemed an enormous amount, but Remus knew it would go quickly. As they stood on the platform, waiting for the train to pull in, they saw the spring sky lit up with flames, and heard the wail of Muggle fire engines. Remus knew that the house he had lived in for months with Sev and the children, the fussy old fashioned Victorian row house that had unexpectedly become his home, was burning. They had escaped in the nick of time.

They stood on the platform and watched as the smoke rising from the fire slowly formed the image of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. It seemed the train would never come, but at last it pulled up. They boarded quickly, with the dark mark hovering, ghostlike, in the background.

Remus sat tensely on the train to London, worried that they had been followed. When they got into town the children were yawning and pale. He looked into their eyes, and saw the deep terror in them, but he didn’t know how to reassure them.

Remus looked about the station nervously, but it was nearly deserted. A few vagrants were sleeping on benches, their faces covered with newspapers. The woman who sold them their tickets looked bored, her skin blue-tinged under the fluorescent lights. Just as they were heading to the platform, Remus spied two figures that made his heart stand still. They were dressed in black suits and bowler hats, cartoonishly, like something out of a Muggle spy movie. Glancing at their faces, he recognized them both. Draco’s old friends from Hogwarts - Crabbe and Goyle! They must have been set to look out for him and the children. Sweating, praying that their glamours were enough to keep them concealed, Remus ushered the children onto the train.

They got a carriage to themselves, and Remus double locked the door with his wand and pulled the blinds closed. He sat down on the bench heavily - that had been close, way too close for his liking. The train started up, and he hoped they had left the junior Death Eaters behind. He removed the glamours from the children. Gavin’s thin arms went around Remus’ neck and he cried into his shoulder for a long time. Finally, he cried himself to sleep. Remus spent the night staring at the blackness out the window, with Gavin and Amanda dozing on either side of him.

They arrived at the seaside village about dawn, and Remus took the children to a greasy all night cafe and ordered them eggs and tomato and toast. Then they walked down the shingle, following the instructions that Sev had left in his note, and found the boat hidden in a cave by the sea.

***********

They landed on the pebbly beach with a crunch. Remus, feeling completely off balance with his pregnant belly, managed to haul himself awkwardly out of the boat and pull it up onto the shore, disturbing a flock of terns that were running and pecking along the water’s edge. They flew off, their wings sharp against the pearly grey sky, their cries coarse and loud in the still morning. He helped Gavin and Amanda out of the boat, and they looked about groggily.

“Look, a goat,” Amanda cried, pointing up to where a white goat with long curling horns was eyeing them curiously from the edge of the cliff. In a minute it was gone. Remus started leading the children up the narrow path, towards the tall, peaky wooden house, clinging precariously to the side of the cliff. The shadberry bushes were blooming along the sides of the trail, giving the illusion of a recent snowfall. The air smelled of spring, and the sea.

They climbed the rickety wooden stairs to the front porch and Remus used the old fashioned brass knocker to knock at the front door. The sound reverberated and echoed through the house. Amanda took his hand and squeezed it nervously. At last they heard footsteps. The door opened a crack and a sharp blue eye looked out at them.

Without warning, a spider web bloomed and expanded from above and they were entangled in sticky grey ropes. The ropes twined around their legs. Remus felt his feet go out from under him and in a moment all three of them were hanging upside down, suspended from their ankles. Amanda screamed beside him. Gavin was sobbing without sound, the tears streaming down his face. Remus’ robes fell away and billowed below him, revealing his protuberant belly and worn boxers to the owner of the suspicious eye peering out through the crack in the doorway. A few Muggle coins fell out of his pockets and rolled away on the stony ground.

The door opened and a thin, grey haired woman, stood before them. Behind her stood another, shorter, stouter woman, her hair a cap of tight steel colored curls. They both had their wands out.

“Madame Pepper?” gasped Remus. The blood was all rushing to his head, making it hard to think properly.

“Madame Spider,” she replied coldly.

“I am Madame Pepper,” said the other woman, stepping out to stand side by side with her sister. "State you name and business.”

“I am Remus Lupin,” Remus said. “A friend of Severus Snape. He sent us here.” He reached into his robes and awkwardly, handed the thin woman, Madame Spider, the letter Sev had written. She did not read it. Instead, she looked Remus over sharply.

“You’re the boyfriend?” asked Madame Pepper.

“Yes,” Remus replied, with as much dignity as he could muster. ”I am.”

The two women looked at each other, and Madame Spider waved her wand. The sticky ropes vanished, causing Remus and the children to tumble to the ground. Madame Pepper moved forward, to help Remus to his feet and brush him off.

“Sevvy didn’t say anything about a baby,” she said.

“Sevvy? Really?” Somehow, in the awkwardness and desperation of the moment, Remus felt an almost irresistible urge to laugh. He beat it back. “Did he also fail to mention that I’m a werewolf, on the lam from the ministry, with a price on my head?”

“He didn’t mention that, no,” said Aunt Spider.

“It’s probably in the letter,” said Remus.

“And these children? Are they yours?”

“This is Gavin and Amanda McAllen. They are war refugees. They are under our care and protection. Mine and Sev's.” Gavin’s silent sobs had turned noisy. There were two trails of green snot running from his nose. Remus picked him up and he snuffled wetly into his neck. Amanda grabbed Remus’ hand again and held it.

“Perhaps you’d better read Sevvy’s letter,” said Remus, with a sigh.

Aunt Spider set a pince nez on her nose and Aunt Pepper stuck a monocle in her left eye. They read the letter slowly. Remus hadn’t read it, he really didn’t know what it said. He stood there on this soft spring morning, in the pleasant sea breeze, and felt his impatience growing. The full moon was tonight. The prickliness of his skin was almost unbearable. He put a hand to his chin and felt the growth of stubble. He knew his eyes were wild. He hadn’t slept at all during their long overnight journey, and of course, he had to pee.

After she read the letter Aunt Spider looked up at them and for the first time, she smiled. It completely changed her face and she looked much less imposing and scary.

“Please,” she said. “Come in. You are welcome here.”

“I…...have to go,” said Remus. “Sev…..Sevvy….I have no idea… where he is, what’s happened, where they’re keeping him. If he’s alive even.” He felt hysteria rising in him. “And….and Harry didn’t come home last night. And the others. Not that there’s even a home to go to any more. The Death Eaters torched it last night.”

“Spinner’s End?” asked Aunt Pepper sharply.

“Yes. So you see, I have a lot to do. And yes, I just met you, and yes I’m in love with your nephew, and yes I’m eight months pregnant and probably not in the best condition for this job and the moon is tonight and I really have no idea where to start looking for him, but it's only me, you see, and so I’d best get going - there isn’t really much time so if you would just keep Gavin and Amanda safe for me - they’re great kids they won’t be any trouble - and maybe if I could just use your bathroom and borrow a broomstick? Thank you.”

Remus was breathless after this speech and his upper lip was sweating.

“Don’t go Mr. Moony!” Gavin said, holding tight to Remus’ neck and starting to wail.

“Take us with you,” said Amanda. “We want to help look for Mr. Sev. Don’t we Gav?”

Gavin left off crying and looked at Remus. The tears in his eyes made them look very brown. “Yes,” he said nodding solemnly. “We do.”

Remus set Gavin on his feet and kneeled down so he was eye to eye with the little boy. He put an arm around Amanda and pulled her in close.

“I can’t take you with me,” he said. “Mr. Sev left specific instructions that if anything were to happen you were to stay here. With his aunts. I’m sure they’re very nice. And I’ll come back here as soon as I possibly can.”

“With Mr. Sev?” asked Amanda.

“Yes, of course with Mr. Sev. At least, I hope so.” As usual he found he could not lie to Amanda and Gavin.

“Promise?” said Gavin querulously.

“I’ll do my very best,” Remus replied fervently.

“There’s cauliflower scones and milk in the kitchen,” Aunt Pepper said, in a brisk, taking charge kind of voice. “And baby goats in the goatshed. You might want to have a look at them after you eat. Bathroom’s just down the hall,” she added to Remus, ushering them all inside.

“Cauliflower scones?” said Gavin, looking up at her curiously through tear filled eyes. “That’s silly.”

“Wait until you taste them and then tell me they’re silly. Why, my cauliflower scones were right famous in their day.” And she led the children away.

Remus peed in the bright bathroom with a window that looked out over the sea. He rinsed his face and his mouth, wishing he’d remembered to pack a toothbrush. He avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror. He knew he looked ragged and wild.

Aunt Spider met him in the hall with a broomstick and a thermos flask of tea.

“Are you sure you can ride this?” she asked. “In your condition?”

“It’s not ideal,” said Remus grimly, “But I’ll manage. I’ll leave my satchel with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” she said. “Do be careful. I know Sevvy is very fond of you, and he hasn’t been fond of anyone in such a long time.”

“Wish me luck,” said Remus. “I’m going to need it.” He took the broom from Aunt Spider, tucked the thermos flask gratefully into his robes, stepped outside and mounted the broom. “Thank you for looking after the children.”

He took off into the clear spring air. His stomach lurched unpleasantly. He had never really liked flying. He waved to Aunt Spider and watched the island fall away below him. The spring breeze was chillier up here and he shivered. With determination, he turned his face to the mainland.

He crossed the ocean with no idea where to start looking. Perhaps he could get some help from some members of the Order? Where was Harry? Where was Sev? Malfoy Manor? Little Hangleton? Azkaban?

He landed on the mainland in a deserted wood. He sat on a log and drank Aunt Spider's tea, which was strong and sweet and spiced with cinnamon. He felt better after drinking it, though he still had no idea where to go.

An owl fluttered down from the sky with a scroll of parchment in its beak.The owl was covered in soot, as if it had been in a fire. The scroll was addressed to _Remus Lupin, Spinner’s End, or Wherever Else In the World He Might Be_ in a sloppy, adolescent scrawl.

Remus unscrolled the parchment.

_Having a lovely holiday at my brother’s. Unfortunately, our Slytherin friend could not join us. Hope to see you soon._

The letter was unsigned.

**********

By the time Remus arrived at Shell cottage it was late afternoon. He’d been to the Burrow, and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. No one had heard anything from Harry, Ron and Hermione. No one knew anything about Sev. He knocked on the door in the late afternoon light, beautiful, clear spring air, the cries of the gulls all around him. He knew he looked terrible; haggard, dirty, sweaty, his eyes glowing yellow, his face shadowed with stubble. His belly was sticking out in front of him like an aberration. His hands had a tremble he couldn’t stop. He hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, hadn’t drunk anything but the flask of tea provided by Aunt Spider.

The door opened a crack and he heard Hermione’s voice.

“Identify yourself!”

“It is I, Remus Lupin, and I last saw you two days ago at Spinner’s End, and you were wearing….” But the door was flung open and Hermione was embracing him in a tight hug. His skin shuddered at her touch but he was so relieved to see her that he ignored it. Then he was surrounded by a babble of excited chatter. Harry was there, and Ron, and Bill and Fleur, and for some inexplicable reason, Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas. But no sign of Sev.

Harry, eyes downcast, told him how they had been captured by Bellatrix and Pettigrew in the alley behind Spinner’s End and been brought to Malfoy Manor. He told Remus how they had escaped just as Sev and Voldemort had arrived, and how Dobby the house elf had died, and been buried that morning on a rise above the sea. He had no idea what had happened to Sev.

It was Bill Weasley who looked at Remus sharply, and said, “Isn’t it the full moon tonight?”

Remus looked into Bill’s scarred face and saw a shadow of yellow in his eyes. He remembered that Bill had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback the year before. He hadn’t been turned, because the bite had occurred while Greyback was in human form, but Bill had the taint of the wolf in his blood.

“I hate to ask it of you,” Remus said, “but have you anyplace I can stay? A shed? A basement? There’s no wolfsbane, and well, I’d best be chained if you can manage it. Ropes won’t work. I’ll just gnaw through them.”

He had to get to a safe place soon, the sun was setting, his skin was crawling, he thought he might puke. The smell of the humans all around him was overpowering. He had to get outside, into the fresh air. The baby moved inside him and his heart contracted with fear for his little one, but he was out of time. Luckily, Bill recognized the urgency of the situation, and led him outside, to a shed filled with straw. He removed some sharp tools that were lying about, then disappeared. He was back in a few minutes with a set of chains. Remus was undressed, standing naked, facing the wall, his pregnant body exposed. He felt horribly embarrassed by it, in front of Bill, which was pretty stupid, really, given the danger that they were all facing, but it was an intimate thing, and he missed Sev, so piercingly in that moment, with the moon tugging at every cell of his body, every drop of his blood, that he thought perhaps he could not stand it.

“Lock the door,” Remus said, after Bill had chained him to the wall. His voice was a feral growl. “Don’t come back until morning.”

Bill left, and Remus was alone with the rising moon. Just before the moon slid up and over the horizon Remus thought of Sev, imprisoned, alone, tortured, and he felt as if his heart was breaking in two. Then the rage of the wolf rose inside him. His mouth bristled with fangs and long claws erupted from the ends of his fingers. A great howl tore from his throat, and in a way it was good because all the sadness and the worry and the fear faded away from him, and he was just an animal until the morning.

************

On the night of the full moon Dudley got home from the pub early and relatively sober. He liked the place that Tonks had put them up in this time. It was clean, with thick duvets on the beds, and a private bath in the room. He had a smoke, sitting at the open window, as the rooms were supposed to be nonsmoking. He watched the moon as it rose, huge and bright, in the eastern sky. He felt bored and a little restless.

Draco was out with a new girl he had taken up with. They had been seeing each other for a few weeks now. She was part of the core group, that moved from town to town, renting halls, leafleting, putting up fliers, talking up the planned rallies in pubs and cafes. Dudley figured Draco wouldn’t show up for another couple of hours at least.

The problem with thinking, Dudley mused as he sat there in the moonlight, smoking, was that sometimes it was hard to stop. He was trying not to think about Draco, out with his girl. He thought about his parents. He knew his mum would be worried sick about him, but it couldn’t be helped. He wondered if Harry had gone to see them, as he had asked. He thought of his dad, drinking, in the flickering light of the TV. When he’d been little he’d wanted to be just like him, but he didn’t feel that way anymore. Problem was, he wasn’t sure who he wanted to be like now. At last he got up off the windowsill, went into the sparkly clean bathroom and poured himself a bath.

The sound of Draco’s key in the door surprised him. He heard him in the bedroom, taking off his jacket, removing his boots, lighting a cigarette. Dudley, lying in the warm water, watched his cock unfurl and stand straight up as he listened to Draco moving about in the next room.

Draco opened the bathroom door, and smirked when he saw the state of Dudley. He did not hesitate, but got out of his clothes with grace and efficiently, while Dudley, lounging in the warm water, watched his every move. He leaned over Dudley and kissed him and his mouth was hot and hungry. Dudley reached for Draco’s hard cock, but Draco shoved his hand aside. He took the soap, lubed Dudley, causing him to close his eyes and moan softly, then he rolled a condom onto him, and lubed him again. Draco got into the tub with one fluid move and straddled him, pressing his arse right against Dudley’s erection. Then, shifting a little, grunting, his nostrils flared and his pupils completely dilated, he pushed himself onto Dudley, pulling him deep inside.

Just as he was about to come, Dudley opened his eyes and looked at Draco above him, beautiful and intense, eyes closed, working him hard. “Open your eyes,” Dudley said said to him, hoarsely, wanting more of him. Draco’s eyes were the palest blue, almost a grey, and his pupils were black pools and when he looked at Dudley it pierced him to the heart and then they were both coming, looking into each others eyes in the warm slick soapy water.

Draco laughed with release but he didn't take his eyes off Dudley, who grinned up at him.

“You liked that?” Dudley said, breathless.

“Yeah,” Draco said, smiling back at him, relaxing into Dudley with his whole body. He pulled off of Dudley and stretched out beside him in the warm water. It was a large old fashioned bathtub with room enough for both of them, though it was still a tight fit. He started nuzzling into Dudley, enjoying the feel of him, tracing his big muscles with his lips, the water making everything slippery and smooth.

“ ‘s’good, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it better than with that girl?”

Dudley didn’t know why he said it. It was breaking the silent pact they seemed to have come to - to avoid talking about certain things. But he couldn’t stop himself, somehow.

Draco’s eyes narrowed, and he turned away “What do you mean?”

“Just asking,” said Dudley stubbornly. “Which is better?”

Draco didn’t answer. He turned away from Dudley, got out of the tub and wrapped himself in a towel. He walked into the bedroom. By the time Dudley had got himself out of the tub and dried off, Draco was lying on his bed, on top of the duvet, smoking a cigarette.

“I…… I didn’t even shag her tonight,” said Draco when Dudley came into the room.

“Oh.”

“I begged off early. I hadn’t the strength for the drama.”

“Oh.”

“She’s getting attached.”

“Oh,” said Dudley. He thought about this for a few moments. Then he said, “That’s bad?”

Draco shrugged. “She’s Muggle.”

“Oh,” said Dudley. “So’m I.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not as good a shag as you are.”

Dudley grinned at that. “Budge up,” he said. He got onto the bed beside Draco, shoving at him with hips to make him move aside. Draco handed over his cigarette and Dudley took a drag.

“Why don'tcha stop seeing her? “he asked.

Draco sighed, and took the cigarette back from Dudley. “I probably should,” he said. “But that’d just be more drama. How about you? Have any luck tonight?”

“Naah,” said Dudley. “I just went home early. I was waiting for you,” he added shyly.

Draco inhaled on his cigarette and looked at Dudley narrowly.

“Dudley.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not gay. I…..I can’t be gay.”

Dudley’s mouth was dry, suddenly, and his heart was beating in his chest.

“Look…..I care about you all right?” Draco said, “And you’re…. you’re hot as hell. But I’m a Malfoy. I have to marry…….marry a pureblood. Have children. Carry on the family name.”

“Oh,” said Dudley. He contemplated this for a few minutes. “I thought you hated them. I thought they sold you into a life of slavery to the D.L. I thought you ran away from all that.”

“I’m still a Malfoy,” said Draco. “I’ve got duties…...expectations, that go beyond how I feel. They go back generations…..hundreds of years.”

“Well….” said Dudley softly. “I guess it’s different, if you’re rich.”

“It is.”

“I see that.”

“Shut up.”

Dudley did. He lay there and looked at the ceiling. Draco finished his cigarette and stubbed it out.

“I thought this wasn’t gay,” said Draco at last. “I thought it was just to get off.”

“It was,” said Dudley. “But now, I dunno. I go out with girls Draco. I try, I really do. They’re pretty and all, and soft, and some of them are really sweet and nice, but it’s like nothing’s happening, you know. Then you walk into the room and it’s like, instant boner. Well, I know sometimes I’m a bit dense but I’m starting to put it together.”

“That you’re gay.”

“The dick knows what the dick knows. And I like…...everything we’ve been doing. I like it a lot.”

“Well I can’t just follow my dick,” said Draco with a sigh. “I’ve got……responsibilities. I’m the last Malfoy. And the last male heir to the house of Black. I’ve got to marry and have children. I don’t really have a choice.”

“Everybody’s got a choice.”

“Maybe in your world,” said Draco glumly. “What about your dad? How would he react, if you came waltzing home with me on your arm?”

“My dad’s an arsehole,” said Dudley. “But he loves me. He’d get mad, purple in the face, the way he does. There’d be shouting, maybe he’d break some dishes, punch me in the eye. But he’d come around, eventually.”

“Yeah, well it’s not like that in my family,” said Draco. “Love is beside the point. It’s all about breeding, and manners. And carrying on the family name.”

“There’s Mr. Sev and Mr. Moony. They’re having a baby.”

Draco snorted. “No thank you.”

“They’re happy. Mr. Moony says…”

“And don’t call them that.”

“What?”

“Mr. Sev and Mr. Moony. It sounds childish. It’s Snape and Lupin.”

“It’s just showing respect,” said Dudley. “They’ve been good to me.”

“Well you sound like you’re ten years old.”

“They’re happy,” Dudley repeated.

“Yeah, well do me a favor,” said Draco with scorn. “If I ever get that happy about anyone, male or female, just shoot me.”

They lay there side by side for a long time. At last Draco grasped Dudley’s hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it. He hitched up onto his side and stroked Dudley’s cheek. “Hey,” he said. “You ready for another go?”

Dudley grinned and pulled him close and then it all felt so good and Dudley was really glad to be able to stop thinking for a little while.


	36. Head Injury

At first there was only blackness. And cold - the endless cold. It was a coldness of the soul, as well as the flesh. Hopelessness. Dead, pure hopelessness and despair. He had lost everything, that was clear. There was no escape from whatever pit they had thrown him in, that was clear.

He experienced little pain. The floor was hard, cold stone. He did not feel any hunger, but as time went on he was tormented by thirst. This was what finally motivated him to start moving about his cell - crawling over the uneven stone floor until his head hit a rough stone wall, then feeling his way along it until he found one corner, then two, then three, then four. There was no door.

After the fourth corner his grasping hand encountered an empty tin bucket, which rattled against the stone and echoed crazily in the tight empty space. Beside the bucket, which Sev assumed was for piss and shit, was a pan of water, like something you would leave out for a dog. He had spilled a good deal of the water fumbling around in the dark, but he was so thirsty that he got down on all fours and lapped the shallow pan dry, then licked what moisture he could from the stones.

The fact that they had left him water implied that they did not mean to kill him outright, but had some further purpose for him. Sev shuddered. That was probably not a good thing.

Nevertheless, the water revived him somewhat, and cleared the fog in his head. He did a thorough survey of his person. He seemed uninjured. They had taken his wand, his belt and his shoes. His pockets were empty. He surveyed the room again, standing up and feeling the stones for any hint of a chink or crevice The only thing he discovered was a slot in the stone at chest level, a little bigger than a mail slot, for passing in food. He listened at the slot and he could hear, as if through an additional door, the rattling breathing of dementors. Sev had a sense of a long narrow space beyond the slot, a corridor. The cold that seeped in through the slot was even more intense than the cold in his cell and he shuddered and turned away.

He had no way to mark the passage of time. At what seemed like irregular intervals, the rattling breathing of the dementors would grow noticeably louder, the cold and the despair in his heart noticeably worse, and an unseen skeletal hand would leave a shallow pan of water in the slot. A few times there was bland tasteless food - dry bread and some kind of gruel, which Sev ate automatically, without appetite.

He tried not to think, but of course, that was impossible. All the thoughts were bad.

He tried to remember - remember some of the joy he had experienced these past six months, the passion, the love, but it eluded him. In some vague part of his brain, he realized that this was because of the presence of the dementors, but he was unable to fight his despair. His life seemed an endless pageant of regret and mistakes. Loneliness. Bad choices. Lies and deception. Coldness. He had let down everyone he cared about. Lily. Remus. Harry. Gavin and Amanda. Draco. Dumbledore. He could spend countless hours (he guessed they were hours but perhaps they were merely minutes, time was impossible to gage in that place) worrying about their fate, sure that they were killed or imprisoned. He relived the worst moments of his life over and over, the night Lily had died, the night he had killed Dumbledore, the night Voldemort had discovered his secrets. These scenes flashed before his eyes, again and again, like a repeating film loop and he could not stop them. He hoped for sleep, he prayed for it, but when it came, his nightmares were atrocious, and he woke screaming, bathed in sweat.

The inner fear he had always carried, deep inside him, that he was a bad seed, unlovable, unworthy, now seemed so obvious to him, he wondered how he had ever fooled himself into believing otherwise. As time went on he dwelled increasingly in memories of his childhood, his parents fighting, his mother’s screams, his father drunk, cursing, hitting her, himself, as a small boy, cowering behind the rose colored sofa, quaking, praying not to be noticed. The loneliness and sadness he had felt in that house, his mother crying in the kitchen, his father in absentia. Schoolyard taunts for being different, being odd, his hair pulled,his nose tweaked, pushed down into the dirt, his knees skinned and dirty.

He remembered being teased viciously by Sirius Black, suspended in the air by his ankle, his underwear exposed. He remembered Remus sitting there passively, his nose in a book, and he wondered if Remus had ever really loved him.

He remembered Lily, and the look on her face when he had called her Mudblood.

He had no desire for sex at all. That vital driving force, that urgency and need, had been sucked away from him by the constant presence of the dementors. And as time went on, it got more and more difficult to remember Remus. He struggled to reconstruct the sound of his voice, the feel of his skin, the warmth in his eyes, but he felt those memories fading from him, into the cold, never ending blackness that surrounded him.

********

It took three days for Remus to recover from that moon. He woke in an unfamiliar bed, in a darkened room, with no recollection of how he had gotten there. It was a peaceful pleasant room, and Remus thought he could hear the sound of the sea. He lay there, trying not to think, knowing that soon, it would all come back to him, and then he would have to feel it all again, fear and sadness and grinding worry. Just for a moment he wanted to feel peaceful. Just for a moment he wanted to just lay in the warm bed, his body not hurting, his skin not twitching, just….to float….to be.

He felt the life within him quicken and turn and put a hand to his round firm belly. The baby! Was he all right? And then it all come rushing back to him - Sev missing, the dark mark over Spinner’s End, Gavin and Amanda’s worried faces as he left them on an island in the middle of the sea, his desperate journey here, to Bill and Fleur’s house, Shell Cottage. The baby turned again and gave a vigorous kick.

“Professor?” Hermione entered the room with a bowl of broth. “Are you awake?”

Remus sat up. He drank the broth. He stretched hugely. His left shoulder was heavily bandaged. His left ankle was in some kind of splint and had a dull ache, the feeling, familiar to Remus, of a broken bone that had been magically mended.

“Call the others together,” he said gruffly to Hermione. “We’ve got to come up with a plan.”

*************  
They were back in Birmingham and the march was the biggest yet. The crowd was the angriest yet. Dudley and Draco were quickly separated in the milling crowd - chanting slogans, fists in the air, hundreds of red and yellow banners whipping about in the spring breeze. The image of the snake rising up against the lion was everywhere, on banners, on tee shirts, on home made placards and armbands. Draco also saw a spattering of a new symbol as well, one that was just coming into fashion - a silver skull on a green banner with a snake coming out of its mouth.

Draco was dressed in his usual attire for these events - black ripped jeans, black combat boots and a black leather jacket. He had a yellow armband with the snake and the lion crudely silk screened onto it. He wore a black ski cap on his head and covered the lower half of his face in a red and yellow checked bandana. This was a standard style among members of the movement. Many were afraid to be identified as participating in these rallies and marches, although, as the movement grew, it was becoming much more acceptable. For Draco, who feared being identified by Death Eaters who might be attending the rally, hiding his identity was particularly important, and he kept his face carefully covered.

Draco was a lieutenant for this march. That meant he carried a loudspeaker and kept a section of marchers together. Intermittently, he led chants of various kinds “Britain first!” “Down with foreigners,” “Britain for the British!” When they got to the end of the march he stood on the podium with a group of youth leaders and listened to the speeches. He saw several Death Eaters he recognized. Thorfinn Rowle gave a speech. Yaxley stood in the background, quiet, with a pleased expression in his face. Draco kept his own face carefully hidden. He scanned the mass of people, wondering where Dudley had gotten to.

Off to the side, by the divider that the police had set up to control the crowd, a scuffle had broken out between the police and the demonstrators. The crowd surged against the barrier, the police surged back.The police all wore bright blue vests and helmets. They formed a border using their large plastic shields. Draco heard the angry shouting, saw the demonstrators push back against the wall of shields, then break through. The shouting grew louder. Draco heard the thwack of sticks hitting flesh. The police had their billy clubs out, but many of the demonstrators also carried sticks. He heard the barking of dogs, the hiss of gas canisters. From his vantage point on the podium, Draco watched the whole thing unfold.

Then he spotted Dudley, right in the thick of it. Dudley was tall, and his blonde head and broad shoulders made him stand out. He wore a sleeveless t-shirt and a leather vest. He was shouting along with the rest, his face red, fists out. Whether he was struggling to hit a policeman or just get away from the crowd, Draco couldn’t tell.

It was just before the gas enveloped the crowd that he saw it. An enormous cop, bigger than Dudley raised his stick and cracked it right over Dudley’s blond head. Draco heard the sound from where he stood and it sickened him, right in his gut. He watched as Dudley crumbled and fell, and then the gas blocked everything out and Draco was running, off the podium, through the crowd which was now in chaos, and right into the gas.

The turmoil got worse the closer he got. Draco pulled his bandana tighter around his face, and dove into the cloud of gas to the spot where he had seen Dudley fall. The gas was horrible. It burned his nose. His eyes filled with tears instantly. _“Protego,_ ” Draco muttered under his breath, though he didn’t dare get out his wand in this crowd of Muggles. The spell came out weak, but it provided Draco with enough relief that he could see Dudley lying on the ground, spread eagled and unmoving.

Draco pushed his way through the crowd. Bottles were flying, and rocks. It had turned into a proper melee. He got elbowed hard in the ribs and something hit him on the side of the head, but he kept going until he reached Dudley’s inert form. He got down among the pounding steel toed boots that were everywhere. He felt something dripping down his forehead and put his hand up and it came away bloody. He must have gotten cut without even feeling it. He knelt down beside Dudley and shook his shoulder. Was he dead? He couldn’t be dead. Draco felt that gut clenching cold fear again. The gas was bad, worse close to the ground, and he turned his head aside and puked violently. He shook Dudley’s shoulder and he moaned. Draco grabbed him under the armpits and dragged him through the tumult of people. His eyes were tearing so badly he could barely see. He felt as if his lungs were on fire and he wondered if he was going to pass out. Somehow, he got Dudley out to the edge of the chaos and away from the gas into the fresh air. Dudley moaned and coughed and then he also puked. Draco turned his head so he wouldn’t choke. Then he collapsed beside him and sat next to him until an ambulance came and took them both away.


	37. Muggle Hospital and Malfoy Drawing Room

The march had turned into a riot, and Casualty was crowded with people who had been injured. More patients kept arriving, some walking in off the street, some by ambulance. They were bloodied and bruised, choking with tear gas, holding broken arms at funny angles. A few, like Dudley were more seriously injured and were taken behind the swinging doors into Emergency, but most, like Draco, sat around in hard plastic chairs for hours, waiting to be patched up and sent back out again.

By the time Draco had got his head sewn up dusk was falling and he had no idea where Dudley had got to in the large white Muggle hospital. He went up to the brisk looking girl at the reception desk. Dudley was using a false name, but Draco knew what it was. He told it to the girl and she took a long manicured nail and ran it down her computer screen.

“It’s family only,” she said. “Are you family?”

“I’m the bloody boyfriend,” Draco said, maybe a bit too fiercely. “Does that count as family?”

“Oh.” She eyed him appraisingly and Draco realized how he must look, in his skinhead gear, with a big gash on the side of his head, still bloody and dirty from the riot. “I thought you blokes didn’t approve of that sort of thing.”

“Shit happens,” said Draco. “Now are you going to let me in?”

She looked him over once again, then nodded. “Room 704,” she said and waved him through.

**********

As time went on in the black cold dungeon Sev started sleeping more. It wasn’t really a deep sleep - it was more of a light doze, peppered by dreams. He would wake with an aching tiredness in his bones, as if he hadn’t slept at all. Then the profound boredom would overcome him and he would doze off again.

The whine of metal scraping against stone woke him from one of these restless slumbers. He heard the rattle of chains above him, the creak of rusty hinges. A shaft of weak light fell from an opening above, into the dark chamber where Sev cowered in a corner. The light nearly blinded him. He immediately shut his eyes from the pain. He heard the cold rattling breath of the dementors, felt the cold in his heart worsen as they drew nearer. He started shivering uncontrollably. He knew true terror in that moment, deep visceral terror, that wrenched his gut and caused him to shit himself. He had been alone in the dark for too long.

“This is worse than death,” he thought as he cringed on the floor, trembling, filthy, stinking of shit, blinded by the weak light that entered the dungeon.

Then he heard a familiar female laugh. Using his fingers to block some of the light he looked up to see Bellatrix looking down into his dim dank dungeon from above. She was dressed in rich robes of deep shimmering green. Her hair was elaborately coiffed and curled. Her heavy lips were stained wine red. When she laughed, Sev saw the rotten teeth in her mouth.

“Severus,” she said slowly, drawing it out, savoring every syllable of his name.

She raised her wand and pointed it at him and for a moment they stood there staring into each other’s eyes and then Sev wasn’t afraid anymore. The fear was replaced by another, stronger emotion - hatred.

 _“Crucio!_ ” she cried and the pain, terrible as it was, was not as terrible as the fear and the despair had been. It just added to his hatred. He could use this feeling, use it to fight back.

At last she let up, dropping her wand arm as Sev fell, heavily, to the stone floor. It hurt to move, even a little bit, so he lay there, closed his eyes and savored his hatred. The dungeon was quiet except for the rasping breaths of Bellatrix and the two dementors flanking her.

Then he heard a loud clunk. Sev opened his eyes to see that a ladder had been thrown down for him to climb out of his cell.

“Go fetch him up, Rat,” came Bellatrix’s harsh voice. Sev heard the higher pitched, wheezing breaths of Wormtail as he descended the ladder, mingling with the deeper rasps of Bellatrix and the ominous, low breaths of the dementors. Wormtail prodded him in his back, where he lay on the cold flagstones. Sev opened his eyes, and looked at the tiny man.

Wormtail looked as if he was riding high. He wore a lavender coat with tails, a frilly ruffled white shirt, and a silk top hat on his head. His arm stump was wrapped in a dirty, blood stained cloth, which contrasted oddly with the rest of his foppish costume. Sev wondered again what he had done to lose his hand, but then Wormtail prodded him again with his wand, and made him climb to his feet and up the ladder.

They were deep underground. Wormtail led him through a maze of stony passages, up short narrow staircases, through crumbling chambers with the ceilings half fallen in and holes in the floor, down dank passages slimy with mold where the sound of water dripping could be heard close by. Bellatrix traveled behind him, flanked by the two dementors, her wand pointed directly at his back.

The cold and the despair in his heart was worse with the dementors this close, much worse.

The passageway came out above ground in a large, nearly empty room that looked like an old, abandoned dairy. There were stone sinks lining the walls, various pots and strainers and oversized ladles, all heavy with dust, arranged on shelves. A large old fashioned kitchen range dominated the center of the room. Sev looked out the window and saw the waning moon, riding high in the sky. He thought of Remus, and his heart contracted with fear and worry.

He turned to Wormtail “What day is it?” he asked. “I mean, how many days was I……...in there?”

Wormtail cackled maniacally. “Felt like forever, didn’t it?” he said, and his small eyes glinted with cruelty and mirth. His eyes followed Sev’s to where he was looking out the window and he laughed again. “Oh you missed the full moon,” he said tauntingly. “Poor Moony. I wonder if your _boyfriend_ made it through without you!” Sev had an overwhelming desire to hit him in face. He pulled back a hand to punch him, then thought better of it and settled for a glower, his worst threatening look, which was enough to make Wormtail cower and turn away.

Bellatrix turned to the dementors. “Wait for us here,” she commanded in an imperious voice. “The mistress of the house prefers you remain out of the drawing room.” The dementors gave a low rasping moan of agreement and pulled back. Bellatrix jammed her wand, hard into Sev’s back and pushed him out of the dairy and into the main part of the house.

Having the dementors gone was such a relief that Sev felt lightheaded, as if he might pass out. He was having trouble orienting himself. He stumbled and went to the ground, landing hard on a knee. The pain clarified his mind a little. The deep grinding cold that had been constantly with him for so long was dissipating. As Wormtail led him up, through the kitchens and the servant’s halls, there was light, there was the sound of people moving about, there was the chatter of house elves, there was the smell of cooking and it was warm - incredibly, beautifully warm.

They travelled up one more set of stairs to the familiar hall outside the Malfoy drawing room.

“Wait here,” Bellatrix whispered to Wormtail. “I will see if the Dark Lord is ready to receive him. And don’t,” she hissed, ”allow him escape, or you’ll lose more than just your hand.”

There was a mirror in the hall and Sev turned to it and studied his reflection. He barely recognized himself. He was filthy, his robes in tatters, his hair tumbling in black greasy elflocks about his head. His face had what he guessed was about five days worth of stubble. He knew he stank. He grimaced.

Then he remembered, suddenly, the time he had been standing in his bathroom back at Hogwarts, studying himself, worrying about whether he looked gay. He met his own dark eyes in the mirror. “ _I am gay,_” he thought fiercely. He hadn’t been able to think of Remus clearly in those miserable hours and days in the dungeon, but now the memory of him blazed in his heart. _“I am a gay man, and I have a partner that loves me, and a family that needs me, and I’m going to get back to them.”_ And then, in the few precious moments, where he was neither in the presence of the dementors nor of the Dark Lord, he remembered the Kabbalistic spell. _“In dire need save me, infinite spirit,”_ he whispered in Hebrew. _“Power of the ancients in my bones, fire in my breath. Righteousness is my strength. Yashar hayah koach.”_

He reached down, deep into the earth, and felt its power enter him, moving aside the despair, filling him with hope. His bones felt dense with smoky magic. There was a sweet spicy taste in the back of his throat, like…….cardamom. He reminded himself that Voldemort didn’t know everything about him, not yet. He still had plenty of secrets to keep. He searched his mind for his wall of occlumency and it was there, strong and sure as it had ever been. The door swung open, and Pettigrew prodded him inside, where Voldemort awaited him.

*********

The drawing room had not been cleaned up. The rubble from the crashed chandelier still sat in a pile in the center of the room. The portraits along the walls were covered in white powder. It looked as if a light dusting of snow had fallen. Lamps and small tables were overturned. In one corner a red vase had broken. The shattered fragments of glass were scattered on the oriental carpet, like drops of blood.

A large black chair had been placed in front of the fireplace and there Voldemort sat. His white face looked more snake like than ever. His red eyes glowed. Nagini, curled at his feet, raised her head and hissed at Sev as he entered the room. Narcissa and Lucius were standing beside him. Narcissa looked terrible. She had gone from thin to gaunt, her hair was held back in a bun, pulling her pale face tight. Her high cheekbones stood out at sharp angles. She wore no makeup, and her loosely fitting black robes hung off her thin shoulders. Lucius, on the other hand, appeared to be thriving. He was wearing new looking robes of black velvet. His blond hair was slicked neatly back, accentuating his widow’s peak. He looked as if he had gained weight. He stood to Voldemort’s right, the place that Sev had stood in for years. He sneered at Sev with a look of pure triumph glittering in his pale eyes. Sev met his gaze and sneered back.

“Good,” he thought to himself. “You can have my place, and welcome to it. I never want to stand beside That Bastard again.”

Bellatrix, dressed in her luxurious clothing, her silk gown rustling as she moved, took her place to Voldemort’s left and Peter, in that ridiculous frock coat and top hat, stood beside her.

“Severus,” said the Dark Lord slowly, much as Bellatrix had done. “Severus Snape.” He removed an object from his robes that caused Sev’s heart to twist when he recognized it. His wand!

“Hello Voldemort,” said Sev steadily, looking at him, “Or should I say …..Hello Tom?” He looked at the macabre group arrayed before him. Bellatrix with her silk gown and rotting teeth, Pettigrew with his sharp rat like demeanor, Lucius with his haughty self importance. They struck him as incredibly ridiculous, like something out of a cheap horror show arranged to frighten children, and he laughed. He stood there, stinking, ragged and wandless, in that ruined drawing room and he laughed, right in their faces.

When he had done the room was perfectly silent. Sev felt the smoke in his bones, the fire under his skin. He tasted that sweet spice, again, in the back of his throat, like a secret. He hoped the fire wasn’t showing in his eyes, which felt hot, as if his pupils had turned to tiny flames.

“I see,” said Voldemort. “You have chosen to defy me openly now.”

“Yes, Tom,” said Severus. “I have.”

“A poor choice,” said Voldemort. He stepped forward and started pacing back and forth in front of Sev, taking Sev’s wand and tapping it lightly into his other hand. His hands were white and bony with long skeletal fingers. “Oh well. It is no matter. I have recently taken a trip abroad and learned something, something crucial to my success.” He paused his pacing and looked Sev right in the eye. “The truth is, even before I learned of your betrayal, I had already decided to kill you. This just makes things a little easier, a little clearer.”

He smiled at Sev, an evil, skeletal grin. He licked his lips, and it was like a living Dark Mark, like a snake darting out of the mouth of a skull.

Sev looked into Voldemort’s red eyes and he guessed where this was going. “The Elder Wand,” he said. “Finally worked that one out, did you Tom?”

“Yes,” said Voldemort softly. “You killed Dumbledore."

"Indeed I did."

"So, to truly master the Elder Wand," hissed Voldemort, "I must kill you.”

“Have you got your hands on it yet?” Sev asked.

“No, but I know where it is. Lying, unguarded, in the tomb of an old man, who was too trusting in the goodness of human nature to take the proper precautions. Yes, Severus the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Master of all Wands is waiting for me. I merely have to reach out and take it! But first you, traitor, must die!”

Voldemort raised his wand. _“This is it,_ ” Sev thought, and he saw Remus before his eyes, and thought of the baby that he would never get to see now. But the light that shot from Voldemort’s wand was red, not green, and he cried out _“Crucio”_ with such force and hatred and pure evil intent that the pain was beyond anything Sev could have imagined.

But just as it had in the dungeons, the pain clarified his mind - sharpened it to a pinpoint of hatred. When Voldemort finally stopped the spell, Sev slumped to the floor, but when he looked up at Voldemort he felt the hatred blaze through his body, burning under his skin, boiling in his blood. He heard Bellatrix gasp. He looked into her eyes and saw the flames that were burning in his own pupils reflected in hers.

He looked back at Voldemort, at those fiery red eyes. They were reflecting Sev’s own hatred back at him, and Sev knew the reason Voldemort had not killed him yet. He wanted more information from him, wanted to plunge his mind again, to search for material he hadn’t all ready obtained. Well Sev was ready for him. He reached down, down into the earth, and drew up that solid living energy, and when Voldemort tried to enter his mind it was like he was slamming into a wall. Sev felt the force of Voldemort’s power, pushing against his defenses, the power of pure evil. Voldemort closed his eyes. He was putting everything into it, but Sev kept up his resistance. He looked steadily back at Voldemort and felt him for what he truly was, skin and bones, knitted together with hate and magic, with the smell of death on his breath. Sev felt his his own strong life coursing through him, his body made of flesh and solid white bone, with hot red blood pumping through his veins. There was love in his heart and fire in his eyes and Sev straightened his back, so he stood to his full height, tall and powerful, his feet planted firmly on the floor. Voldemort faltered. He fell back, and would have fallen to the ground, if not for Bellatrix, who reached out to steady him.

“Very well,” said Voldemort hoarsely, breathing hard. He leaned against Bellatrix, looking at Sev with utter hatred. “I have seen enough. Enough to know you have betrayed me, with that werewolf Remus Lupin. I know you have sheltered Potter and the Malfoy brat and have plotted against me with my old enemy Albus Dumbledore. I know you for a homosexual and a deviant and a liar. I know more than enough to justify my killing you.

“And for the rest,” said Voldemort, straightening up, away from Bellatrix’s support. “For the rest - well, that is what veritaseum is for. The vial, Bella.”

With a supremely satisfied smirk on her face, Bellatrix produced a crystal clear vial from within her robes and handed it to Voldemort.

“Now Severus,” said Voldemort. “My old, _trusted_ adviser. Are you going to drink this willingly, or are we going to have to force you?”

Severus looked right back at Voldemort. He smiled. He took in a deep breath, and then the man was gone and a black panther was standing in his place.

*********

They gathered in the sitting room of Shell Cottage, a lovely room painted in seawashed pinks and pale yellows, that looked out over the sea. Tonight the gibbous moon rode high in the sky, reflected on the waves below.

Bill had helped Remus down from the upstairs bedroom and seated him in an armchair by the window, wrapped in a quilt. He still felt weak, but his mind was clear and he couldn’t bear to waste any more time. They had to form a plan to rescue Sev. The others gathered round him, Harry, Ron and Hermione, Luna and Dean, Bill and Fleur. Ollivander the wandmaker and Griphook the goblin were also sheltering at Shell Cottage, but they stayed in their beds, still too ill to attend the meeting.

Luckily the others had already started the search for Sev. Bill had a contact at Azkaban and had been able to ascertain that no new prisoners had arrived there in the past week.

“We don’t think he’s at the Riddle estate at Little Hangleton, either,” said Bill. “Harry and Fleur spent the day posted there yesterday, and saw no activity at all.”

“Yeah,” said Ron. “And Hermione and I staked out Malfoy Manor. It looked like there was lots going on there all day. Lights on, people moving about inside.”

“The grocer’s van pulled up,” said Hermione. “And someone came and took the food and paid them.”

“A house elf?” asked Harry.

“No….” said Hermione slowly. “A normal sized person. They looked like a cook or a housemaid. It was a Muggle grocery van, so I suppose it wouldn’t do to have a house elf answering the door.”

“Did you see anyone else?” asked Remus anxiously. This didn’t seem very much to go on at all. “Any of the Malfoys? Bellatrix?”

“No,” said Ron. “We didn’t.”

“So we’ve no real idea whether Sev is there at all,” Remus said.

“It kind of makes sense, though,” said Hermione. “It's the last place we saw him.”

“Their basement is super secure," Luna said in her dreamy way. “No one can escape from there. We tried and tried.”

But Harry suddenly gave a sharp intake of breath.

“Harry!” said Hermione sharply, looking over at him. “Are you all right?”

He sat with his hand clutching the scar at his forehead, his eyes closed, his face deathly pale. When he opened his eyes he looked right at Remus.

“He’s there,” said Harry. “Malfoy Manor. In the drawing room I saw him. Vol-”

“Don’t say the name,” Ron hissed at him.

Harry gave Ron an irritated look. “I meant, You Know Who is torturing him.”

They all stared at Harry, who looked very pale. Fleur got up and got him a glass of water, and he gulped it gratefully.

“We have to get him out,” Remus said.

Harry staggered to his feet. “We need Malfoy,” he said. His face was still white but he looked determined.

“Malfoy?” asked Bill sharply.

“Draco,” said Harry. “It’s his house. He grew up there. He must know the ins and outs of that place, where they’d be likely to keep a prisoner, what the best way to sneak in would be.”

“Yeah,” said Ron. ”Harry’s right about that.”

“What d’ye mean Malfoy?” said Dean. “Isn’t he a Slytherin, and a Death Eater?” He looked at Harry narrowly. “I thought you two hated each other.”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “We did hate each other. Totally. But he’s come over to our side now and he and I have….well we’ve reached a bit of an understanding.”

“You think he can be trusted?” asked Bill sharply. “He’s a Malfoy, after all.”

“I do,” said Remus. “He’s been living with Sev and I since before Christmas. He’s never given us any reason to doubt him. And he’s up north right now, spying for the Order.”

“What, with Tonks and Kingsley?” asked Bill.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “My cousin’s there too.”

Bill looked at Remus, then at Harry, then back at Remus. “I agree,” he said at last. “We need him. We won't have much of a chance of breaking into that place without some sort of inside information.” He stood, and strode over to the door, pulled on his boots and cloak.

“Where’re you going?” asked Harry.

“To see Kingsley and track down the Malfoy boy. Coming?”

“Sure,” said Harry.

Bill went over to Fleur and kissed her briefly.

“Harry,” said Remus.

“What?” said Harry, looking at him through narrowed eyes.

“I….” Remus looked at him a long moment. He wanted to say _Don’t go. Voldemort's after you. It’s too dangerous,_ but something about the look in Harry’s eye stopped him. He was reminded, painfully, of James at that age. He never would have shied away from danger.

”Come back safe,” Remus said to him at last.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” said Bill, and he and Harry left. The door closed with a bang behind them.

“We shouldn’t have let Harry go,” said Hermione into the silence. “It’s not really safe.”

“I know,” said Remus glumly. “But I don’t think we could have stopped him.”

 *********

 When Dudley woke in the strange hospital room he felt as if his head was under water. He coughed and groaned. When he moved the whole world tilted weirdly and he felt a wave of nausea. He sat up and rubbed his temples. His ears were ringing, and his head ached dully.

Then his eyes focused on Draco, sitting in a chair beside the bed.

“Hey,“ said Draco softly. “You all right?”

Dudley shook his head again. The room didn’t tilt quite so badly as before. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess. What happened?”

“You got hit on the head and gassed and I had to drag you out of the crowd to keep you from being trampled,” said Draco.

“Oh,” said Dudley.

“How do you feel?”

“Weird. Like my head’s stuffed with rocks.”

“You’ve got a concussion. The Muggle healer or whatever she’s called….”

“Doctor,” supplied Dudley.

“Yeah, doctor,” said Draco. “She said your cat scan was okay and you just needed to rest.” He paused. “What’s a cat scan? Do they have cats sniff at you or something?”

“Nah, It’s…..I dunno - a kind of x-ray or something. What happened to you?” Dudley asked gesturing to Draco’s head. “You look a mess.”

“Thanks,” said Draco. “I’ve been too busy worrying over you to get cleaned up.” He put a hand to the stitched place on the side of his head. “This is nothing. Just a cut. Your barbarian Muggle healers sewed it up for me.” He looked over at Dudley. “You’re really all right?”

Dudley shook his head again. He was starting to feel a bit more normal. He looked at Draco and grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine.”

Draco got up and stood beside the bed. “Budge up,” he said.

Dudley looked at him with a question in his eye, but shoved aside and let Draco get in beside him and put his arms around him. Draco leaned his forehead against Dudley’s.

“That’s better,” he sighed.

“Anyone who walks in will know,” Dudley protested weakly. The warmth of Draco beside him was incredibly comforting.

“I don’t give a nargle’s arse,” said Draco. “I just want to hold you.”


	38. The Tunnel

Harry knocked at the door of room 704 and entered without waiting. He found Dudley and Draco hunkered down in the bed together, in a tangle of blankets and discarded clothing. Draco startled awake, scrambled out of Dudley’s arms, pulled the covers to his chin and stared at Harry with hostility.

“This is cozy,” said Harry.

“Hiya Harry,” said Dudley, yawning sleepily.

“Don’t you knock?” said Draco.

“I did knock,” Harry said.

“Piss off, Potter,” said Draco. Harry just ignored him.

“What happened to you two?” Harry asked. He felt exceedingly relieved and happy to find them here, relatively unharmed, in bed together.

“Riot,” replied Draco. “Dudley has a concussion. I just got banged up a bit.”

“Cool scar,” said Harry approvingly, looking at Draco’s head. “You and I are going to match. We’ll be like….twinsies or something.”

“Oh piss off,” said Draco.

“You already said that,” said Harry, grinning at him.

Draco looked at him narrowly. “What are you doing here, Potter?”

“I need you to come with me,” said Harry.

“What? Why? What’s happened? Is everyone okay?”

“Snape’s captured. Spinner’s End was raided and burned.”

“Fuck!” said Draco. “Where’s Gav and Amanda? Did they get away?”

“Yeah, Lupin got them out. They’re in a safe house somewhere in the middle of the ocean. With Snape’s aunties.”

“And Lupin? And the baby?”

“Yeah, they’re okay, I guess. Lupin had a rough moon, but he’s better now.”

“Fuck!” said Draco again.

“We need you Draco. They’re keeping Snape in a dungeon in Malfoy Manor. You Know Who’s there and he’s torturing him and stuff.”

“How d'you know?” asked Draco.

“I……know,” said Harry.

Draco gave him an appraising look but didn't question him further. “You're right,” he said. “I’d best go. D’ you mind Potter?” he asked. “A little privacy?”

Harry turned his back while Draco found his clothes and dressed. “Where are we going anyway?” Draco asked Harry’s back as he pulled on his clothes.

“Ron’s brother’s place. I’ll take you there. You’ll need me to bring you through the wards.”

“I’m going too,” said Dudley from the bed.

Draco and Harry both turned and looked at him.

“You’re ill,” said Draco. “You’re in hospital. You can’t go.”

Dudley shrugged. He got up and stretched. He was wearing baggy, light blue hospital trousers. “I’m all right,” he said. “They’re not doing anything anyway, are they? Just watching me. Where’re my clothes?”

Dudley spied his things in a plastic bag by the windowsill and started pulling on his jeans. “You have a concussion,” Draco protested. “You should stay here.”

“Nah,” said Dudley. “I feel fine. I’m coming with you. I want to help rescue Mr. Sev.”

“Dudley,” said Harry.

“Yeah?” Harry looked him in the eye and saw an all too familiar stubborn look there. The look of someone who is used to getting what he wants.

“You’re Muggle,” he said gently. “You don’t have a wand. I’m not sure how much use you could really be.”

“I don’t care,” said Dudley. “I’m sure you’ll find a job for me. I’m coming along.” He pulled his sleeveless shirt over his head and put on his leather vest. “Wish I had me jacket.” He sat on the bed and tugged on his heavy black boots. He laced them up and stood. “Let’s go,” he said.

Draco and Harry looked at each other. Harry shrugged. Draco looked over at Dudley. He seemed fine, standing there.

“Your head feels okay?” Draco asked him.

Dudley shook it. “It’s fine,” he said. “You’re the one that’s all stitched up like Frankenstein.”

“What’s Frankenstein?” said Draco.

Dudley grinned at him. “Muggle monster,” he explained. “Let’s get going. If Mr. Sev’s in trouble we shouldn’t waste any time.”

Draco sighed. “All right,” he agreed. He gripped Dudley’s arm and turned to Harry. “Let’s go.”

Harry gripped Dudley’s other arm.

The staff who were sitting drinking coffee at the nurse’s station heard a loud pop and when they went to investigate they found the room was empty. There was no trace of the three boys who had been there moments before.

************

Draco drew them a map of Malfoy Manor, the many entrances and exits, the dungeons, the cellars, the towers, the stables. He reviewed the map with everyone in detail.

“The problem is,” said Draco, tapping on the map with his wand, “There’s about ten different places to keep a prisoner.”

“Which is the most likely?” asked Remus anxiously.

Draco studied his home made map thoughtfully. “I’m guessing the most likely place is the lower dungeons. They’re built to be practically impenatrable….except.”

“Except what?”

“There are lower levels - passages nobody really remembers anymore. Well, the whole place goes back to the middle ages, doesn’t it? The original foundation is deep underground. They’ve rebuilt over it countless times. So if they’re keeping him there,” Draco pointed to a place on the map, “Well, there’s no door to those dungeons, just a hatch, overhead. You have to climb out with a ladder. They’re really deep, completely dark, no light gets in at all. But what they don’t know……..” here Draco paused and drew a few additional lines “Is that there's a tunnel, a deeper tunnel that comes out somewhere about……...here." And he pointed with his quill to a spot outside the high stone wall that surrounded the whole place.

“And they don’t know about this tunnel?” said Remus.

“I don’t think so,” said Draco slowly. “I discovered it on my own when I was little. I used to play burglars and stuff down there. I never _told_ them about it.”

“Maybe your dad used to play burglars down there as well, when _he_ was little,” suggested Harry doubtfully. “Maybe he knows about it too.”

“No, Father inherited the manor when he was an adult. He didn’t grow up there.”

“So it's possible that you’re the only one that knows about this passage?” said Remus.

“Yeah,” said Draco. “More than possible. I think it's pretty likely.”

Dudley stood. “C’mon,” he said. “What’re we waiting for?”

“Dudley….” said Draco.

“What?” He drew himself up to his full height. “I’m going, you can’t stop me from coming along.”

“You’ve no wand, no magic. You’ll just be a target.”

“There must be something I can do,” said Dudley. “I’ve been hanging around. I’ve spied, I’ve lied, I’ve gathered information and all that crap. Now it's finally time for some action. I’ve been waiting for this for months. I won't be left behind.”

Luna spoke up. “Maybe you could create a distraction,” she said.

“Yeah,” said Dudley. “That’s right. Now you’re talking.”

“What kind of distraction?” asked Draco dryly. “Want him to run out in front of the Death Eaters and yell, ‘Curse me! I’m Muggle!’?”

“You know,” said Bill. “Fred and George left a bunch of stuff in my basement. Well, last year, before they opened their shop, they were using this place for storage. I’m pretty sure there’s some Peruvian darkness powder down there. And some fireworks. I even think they have some Muggle stuff. Firecrackers and cherry bombs.” He turned to Dudley. “Do you have any of those Muggle firestarters? What are they called? Matches?”

Dudley reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter and flicked it. The orange flame shone bright for a minute, then went out.

“Cool,” said Bill, and Dudley grinned.

“That stuff would be a pretty good distraction if they were on our tails,” said Ron, thoughtfully.

Luna turned to Harry. “Maybe he could hide under your cloak?” she suggested.

“Okay,” agreed Harry. He looked over at Dudley “Looks like you’ve got yourself a job, mate.”

“Just don’t get yourself killed,” said Remus. “Or your mother will never forgive me.”

***********

Everything is much simpler when you are a panther.

The cold is more bearable, and the hunger. The panther understands he must eat or drink nothing from the hands of his captors - anything they offer him is poisoned. He understands he will likely die in this dark hole, with a chain around his neck, but he has a deep understanding of the cycle of life and death and he is not afraid. He misses his mate, yearns for him, though he does not think of him by name. He remembers his smell, his touch, the pounding of his paws beside him as they ran together in the moonlight. He misses his cubs, the young ones, that have to come to shelter in his home, that he has come to think of as his own brood. He yearns to protect them, to fight those that threaten them.

But the human recrimination, the self doubt and guilt, the constant brooding over his own errors and weaknesses, all that is gone.

The panther knows that the best way to protect them now is to guard their secrets. So he lies there, in the cold and the dark, with the patience of a predator, and waits for what will come next.


	39. Shadow

The tunnel was a dusty grimy hole in the soft dirt, its entrance concealed behind a growth of dense shrubbery. Draco had dirt in his eyes and his mouth. He didn’t remember the tunnel being this tight a squeeze, but he supposed he had been smaller the last time he had gone through it. He heard Harry scrabbling in the dirt behind him.

The others were all stationed outside the tunnel, wands at the ready, or spread out in the woods behind the Manor. Dudley was by the front entrance, under the invisibility cloak, armed with firecrackers and cherry bombs and Peruvian darkness powder, to create a distraction if needed. Lupin, who had refused to stay home, in spite of Bill’s vigorous protests (“I’m pregnant, not ill,” he had insisted) was covering Dudley with his wand.

The tunnel widened as it dove steadily downward, and soon they were able to stand and walk side by side in a stone lined passageway coated with ancient dust. The flagstones were littered with the skeletons of small animals that crunched under their feet. Thick spider webs hung from the ceiling and the walls. They got in Draco’s nose, in his eyelashes. The tunnel kept descending downward, until the flagstones gave way to solid granite, and it was clear that the passageway had been carved from the bedrock itself.

They came to a dead end and Draco shone his wand above their heads. There were three dark stones set in the ceiling above them, darker than the surrounding bedrock of the passage. It was cleaner down here, colder. The rock glinted with specks of mica.

“What do we do now?” Harry whispered.

“Push,” Draco whispered back. He reached up and pushed against the stone to the left. It ground noisily and moved aside. Draco hauled himself up into the dark space above and shone his wand about. The chamber was empty.

“Fuck,” Draco whispered.

“What now?”

Draco lowered himself and replaced the stone using his wand.

“We try the next one.”

The second chamber was also empty, and Draco replaced the stone as quietly as he could. This was bad. If they had been heard they were in serious trouble. He was sweating, in spite of the chilly dank air, and his palms were wet.

When Draco pushed on the third stone it felt as if it was being held down by a heavy weight. Then, he heard a scrabbling sound, and the stone gave way. He shone his wand into the chamber and the light fell on the dark shining fur of a large cat of some kind. Draco climbed through the opening and the cat started purring loudly and rubbing its head against Draco’s chest.

“Is that him?” whispered Harry, pulling himself up beside Draco.

“Yeah, I think so,” Draco whispered back. The loud purring of the panther was filling the small cell, reverberating off the stone walls. “He’s an animagus. I knew he turned into some kind of beast to run with Lupin at the full moon. Didn’t know it was a panther though.”

“He’s chained,” whispered Harry.

“Yeah, we can take care of that,” said Draco, pointing his wand at the place in the wall where the chain was attached.

Then they heard the creak of a door opening down the corridor. They heard rattling breathing coming closer.

“What the fuck….?” whispered Draco.

Harry looked at Draco. “Dementors!” he said. “Patronuses! Now!”

 _“Expecto Patronum!_ ” They both cried, and a silver stag and a silver dragon filled the small dungeon and went bounding through the food slot and down the corridor toward the dementors.

“Let’s go!” shouted Harry, “They'll be back!” He pointed his wand to the chain and yelled _“Confringo!_ ” It blasted apart in a shower of orange sparks. The panther leapt through the hole in the floor and started tearing through the rocky underground passageway toward freedom. Harry and Draco lost no time in following him. Their footsteps echoed crazily on the stone tunnel as they ran. When they paused for breath they could hear the rattling breathing of dementors coming behind them. They both turned, and cast their patronus charms again. Then they started squeezing, one behind the other, through the narrow gritty portion of the tunnel toward the fresh air.

When they got out of the tunnel Snape, the panther was nowhere to be seen but it was obvious that the Manor had been alerted. The woods were filled with smoke. Curses were ricocheting through the trees. Weasley’s Amazing Everlasting Fireworks were wheeling about, casting shimmering colored lights through the woods. The sound of Muggle firecrackers and cherry bombs reverberated through the trees. Everything was illuminated by the silvery light of multiple patronuses - Hermione’s otter, Ron’s terrier, Luna’s unicorn and Lupin’s large shaggy dog were keeping the dementors at bay.

Draco cast his dragon patronus once again, and aimed several stunning spells toward the Manor, where a steady stream of curses was being aimed at their group by unseen assailants. _“Probably my parents,”_ thought Draco grimly and cast another stunner. He looked over toward the front gates and was startled to see Dudley in plain view. Fuck! He was supposed to be hidden under the invisibility cloak. He was lighting and throwing cherry bombs with single minded concentration, and he looked completely vulnerable and exposed. Draco felt a familiar gut clenching fear. He ran over to him as quickly as he could.

“You’re supposed to be under the cloak,” he yelled through all the noise.

Dudley shrugged and threw another cherry bomb.

“They’re using it,” he said and gestured to the empty space beside him. Draco reached over and felt a solid body through silky, invisible fabric. He tugged at it and Lupin was revealed. The panther was standing in front of him, his front paws on Lupin's shoulders, licking his face.

“Merlin’s bloody balls!” yelled Draco. “You can have your happy reunion later. Now get the fuck out of here!” He held his wand aloft and shot up blue sparks, their agreed upon signal to clear out. He heard the pop of apparition around him as the others left the scene. Lupin grabbed the panther by the scruff of the neck and they disappeared.

Draco grabbed the invisibility cloak from where it had fallen on the ground. He threw it over himself and Dudley. He put his hand to the back of Dudley’s neck, kissed him hard on the mouth, then grabbed his arm and they apparated away.

********  
The days on the island seemed very long.

Amanda sort of liked it on the island. She liked Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider. She liked the goats, especially Curly, the old Nanny who liked to be petted and brushed. Curly would stand perfectly still while Amanda fumbled with her teats, trying so hard to get the milk out that she broke into a sweat. Aunt Spider made it look so easy. She liked the baby goats who ran and played and climbed on her back and then went running to their mothers to buck hard at their udders. There were three sets of twins. Her favorite was a little brown and white speckled doe named Patches, who would wear herself out playing, then fall asleep in Amanda’s lap like a baby.

She liked cauliflower scones and cauliflower tea and cauliflower soup and all the other funny foods that the old ladies served them. They had a greenhouse where the cauliflowers grew in quiet rows, large and white, bigger than her head, waiting to be picked. It was quiet in there and Amanda would go stand in the center of the warm moist room and listen to the plants. Aunt Pepper said if she was extra quiet, she would hear them growing.

But she didn’t _really_ like it, not the way she liked Spinner’s End. Without Mr. Moony and Mr. Sev, it didn’t feel like any kind of home.

Amanda found it easy to accept that two men could love each other, as Mr. Moony and Mr. Sev obviously did, and could be having a baby together. She accepted it naturally, and it didn’t seem any stranger than the rest of the magical world she had been unexpectedly thrust into - no stranger than Mr. Moony waving his wand to start the knife chopping onions on the cutting board, ot tapping the kettle to make the water instantly hot, or Mr. Sev coming through the floo in the evenings with a scowl on his face, brushing the soot off his robes, and complaining about the dunderhead students who couldn’t tell a bezoar from a dragon’s heartstring.

She had felt comfortable at Spinner’s End. She had felt accepted, not somehow odd or different, as she had her entire life. Then it had all been wrenched away from her, on the terrifying night of the fiery doe and the Dark Mark and she had been taken here, to this strange island. Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider were very kind, and made sure she was comfortable, but they didn’t make her feel loved, not the way Mr. Moony and Mr. Sev had.

It was a quiet morning, grey and foggy, but Aunt Pepper said the sun would probably break through by afternoon, and maybe she’d plant peas in the garden. Amanda had helped feed the goats and water the cauliflowers, then gone upstairs to the small bedroom she shared with Gavin at the top of the house. She looked out at the foggy day. There wasn’t much to do. There were no lessons, as there had been at Spinner’s End. Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider had dug up some dusty looking dolls, with cracked ceramic faces, but they weren’t very appealing and Amanda felt she was too old for dolls, anyway. There were a few children’s books with broken spines and old fashioned pen and ink illustrations that didn’t interest her much either. She looked down at the shingle where Gavin was entertaining himself throwing rocks in the water and chasing seagulls. Then she saw a small black speck on the water, coming through the fog, getting closer.

It was a rowboat, with a single dark figure in a cloak, pulling steadily at the oars. The boat made steady progress, until Amanda could see who was rowing. It was Mr. Moony! But why was he returning alone?

Amanda flew down the stairs, out the front door, and down the steep trail to the beach, where Gavin was helping Mr. Moony pull the rowboat in to shore.

“Where’s Mr. Sev?” Amanda demanded, running to help with the boat. “I thought you were going to rescue him! Why didn’t you rescue him?”

“It’s all right Amanda,” said Mr. Moony. He pulled back a blanket in the stern of the boat to reveal the panther curled in a tight circle on the wooden floor of the boat.

The panther leapt from the boat and started purring loudly, butting his head up against the children and licking their hands.

“Is this Mr. Sev?” asked Amanda doubtfully.

“Yes it is,” said Mr. Moony.

“He smells bad,” said Amanda, wrinkling her nose.

“Well, he’s been through a lot. We’ll give him a bath.”

“What’s his name?” demanded Gavin.

Remus rubbed the panther behind the ears and grinned. “How about Whiskers?” he suggested. The panther pulled his lips back in a grimace and growled.

“Shadow,” suggested Gavin, and the panther purred and rubbed his head hard against Gavin’s chest, nearly knocking him over and making him giggle.

“Shadow it is then,” said Remus.


	40. Sunlight on Water

Sev stayed a panther for three days which worried Gavin and Amanda quite a bit. If it worried Remus he kept it to himself, calmly reassuring the children that Sev would return to human form when he felt ready.

It was the fourth night after his rescue, a clear night, with the waning moon shining on the restless sea. Remus had fed the children bread pudding for supper, with generous helpings of Aunt Spider's beach plum compote which stood in rows in the cellar in neatly labeled jars. Then he’d read to them in bed, the fire crackling in the small fireplace in the room Pepper and Spider had designated for a nursery. The panther lay stretched beside Remus, purring loudly, his head a heavy weight in his lap, while Amanda and Gavin took turns scratching his stomach. Remus had found a whole series of Pippi Longstocking books on a shelf in the parlour and he and the children had been devouring them hungrily. They found the simple tales of childhood adventure were a soothing tonic after all the terror and fear they had experienced.

He tucked the children in and left the panther dozing by the fire, then went to take a long hot bath. He was actually starting to relax. He missed Sev, the man, but life with Shadow, the panther was remarkably peaceful. Gavin and Amanda were content. Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider seemed genuinely happy to have them here, and did everything they could to make them feel welcome and at home. He spent the days with the panther and the children, helping the old ladies in the goatshed and the garden, taking long walks on the beach and the brambly stony hills that comprised the little island. The spring days were soft and warm, and he felt safe on this island, out in the middle of the sea. Voldemort and his Death Eaters and the war felt very far away.

Remus looked down at his huge belly, which rose like a large pink bubble out of the bathwater. The skin was stretched tight as a drum across his abdomen, and lately there didn't seem to be enough room in his body for his lungs. Not to mention his bladder. His nipples were dark and pointed, each one surrounded by a new layer of fatty tissue. Remus thought they looked ridiculous on his angular, hairy chest. He sighed. He had chosen this. He wanted this baby, but he was sick to death of being pregnant.

When the water cooled he hauled himself out of the tub reluctantly, toweled off, and put on a flowery dressing gown he had borrowed from Aunt Spider. He headed down the hall and entered his darkened bedroom.

A driftwood fire purred gently in the fireplace, otherwise the room was unlit. The moon rode high in the spring sky casting the room in silvery light. The panther lay in the middle of the bed, a circle of black velvet. He raised his head and gave Remus a look of pure animal hunger.

“Really?” said Remus gesturing to himself. “I’m the size of a small whale.”

He walked over to the window, and let the flowered dressing gown fall to the ground. The light from outside shone on his full belly, round as the moon itself.

Silent as black silk, the panther slithered off the bed and padded over to Remus. He made a soft sound in his throat, not quite a purr, not quite a question. It made Remus’ breath catch, the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

“If you want to have sex,” Remus said, “you’ll have to turn into a human. I don’t mind a little kink, but I draw the line at bestiality.”

But the panther was rubbing himself sensually, against Remus’ thighs, against his his tight protuberant belly, against his cock, which grew hard at the touch of the soft silky fur. The panther rubbed his body against Remus, his whole side rippling like one long sinewy muscle, Then his tongue was darting out, licking in all the soft sensitive places that a panther tongue had no business being, and finally, lapping at his cock. It was a soft, velvety tongue, not raspy as he would have expected and it knew what it was about.

At last Remus pulled himself away with a gasp. He knelt and took the panther’s head in both hands and looked him in the eye. “Come back to me,” he whispered. “Sev, please, I want _you._ Not a panther. _You_.”

The panther licked his hand and looked at him quizzically.

“I know animagi can't have sex,” Remus said. “or else Sirius would have sired half the dogs in England.”

The panther made that sound again at the back of his throat.

“I miss you,” said Remus. “I want you back. And.....oh!” And then he couldn’t speak any more because Sev was standing before him. His hands were no longer touching soft fur but warm skin, the arms that encircled him were sinewy and human and Sev’s deep eyes were boring into his, drinking him in as if he could never get enough.

And then, even though there was so much to say, they found they didn’t need words at all. They breathed each other in. An animal musk still clung to Sev. His mouth was so warm and so soft, his cheek, with a week’s worth of beard was rough against Remus’ face, his hands were stroking, exploring, feeling every inch of skin he could, and Remus was touching him back, reclaiming him with his lips, his tongue, his hands. Their skin glowed silver in the moonlight and every whisper of breath felt good.

“I missed you,” Remus breathed at last into Sev’s warm, warm neck.

“I can’t believe I made it back to you,” Sev said. He kissed down Remus’ neck to his chest.

“Lupin,” he said in amazement. “You’re growing tits!” He took a nipple in his mouth, experimentally.

“Oh, ow!” Remus exhaled sharply.

“Not good?” asked Sev nuzzling into his chest, his erection hard and hungry against Remus’ thigh.

“It hurts,” panted Remus.

“Good hurts or bad hurts?” Sev demanded.

“Just…they're really sensitive. Go gentle.”

Sev breathed on the small pillowy breasts, then took a finger and stroked the dark hairs around the erect nipples, not touching them, but circling them slowly.

“Oh,” Remus moaned.

“Better?”

Remus breathed in sharply, arching his back toward Sev. “Mmm hm.”

Sev moved his finger whisper gentle, and lightly stroked the firm pink nipples, first one, then the other.

“Fuuuck!” Remus breathed.

Sev probed one of his nipples experimentally with his tongue. “I wonder if you’re going to be able to breastfeed.”

Remus’ breath was all short and gaspy and he didn’t answer.

“It’s supposed to be good for the baby,” said Sev as he nuzzled and licked.

“Oooohhh,” moaned Remus softly.

“One of the most rewarding experiences a mother and child can have,” Sev quoted. “It’s in those pamphlets from the ministry.”

Remus grabbed him by the hair and hauled his head back. “You read those things?”

“Every word,” said Sev. “I wanted to know what we’re in for.”

“Hey Sev, I want to show you something.”

“What?”

“Don’t freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?”

“I’m a little freaked out myself.”

Remus took Sev’s hand and placed it low, between his legs, behind his balls. There, in the taint, Sev felt the normally solid tissues give way beneath his probing fingers, to a soft, opening.

“Lupin,” he breathed. “You’ve grown a cunt!”

“I know.”

“It’s a pussy. How…..?”

“It just…opened up. I think it’s those herbs I’ve been taking. From the centaurs.”

“For the birth.”

“Yeah.”

Sev probed experimentally. He cautiously inserted a finger into the moist place between Remus' legs.

“Can I fuck you here?” he breathed.

“I think so,” said Remus. “Isn’t that what straight people do?”

Sev smiled at him “Yeah,” he said. “I believe it is.”

“All my orifices are yours, love,” said Remus. “Take your pick.”

“I guess I don’t have to worry about getting you pregnant.”

“No, that part’s been managed already.”

Sev led him over to the bed. “Lay back,” he said throatily.

“Like this?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t crush the baby.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Remus looked beautiful, his eyes half closed, his round belly thrust sensually up and out. Sev kneed up and pushed his cock against that new warm wet place between Remus’ legs, then pushed in. Remus sighed and pushed against him and he felt the walls of that strange vagina contract and grip him gently. He pushed again. He thrust about for a while, trying to find the right angle. He opened his eyes and looked at Remus, who was lying there with his eyes closed, face tight with concentration. It was hard to tell if he was enjoying this or not. Sev put his hand on Remus’ cock which was, admittedly, hard, and standing straight up in front of him. Remus took in a long shuddering breath and then opened his eyes.

“Sev?”

“What is it?”

“I think I prefer it…..you know…..the usual way.”

Sev shook his head and smiled down at him. “Okay,” he said. He pulled out and grabbed a pillow and shoved it under Remus’ hips, then pushed into his arse and felt the familiar tightness around him.

“Yes,” Remus whispered. “That…...there…..that’s….it.....I need…..that…..” Sev was finding his angle and his rhythm and Remus was moaning and gasping under him, every thrust deepening their pleasure and it wasn’t long before they were coming together, breathless and sobbing, in each other’s arms.

They lay there for a long time in the moonlight, entangled, not wanting to let each other go, slowly coming back to themselves.

“I was so afraid,” Sev whispered to Remus at last.

“I know.”

“It was…..so cold. So dark. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”

“But you know……” Sev said thoughtfully, “I’m not afraid anymore.”

“Good.”

“I mean I’m still afraid. Of course I’m afraid. I’d be a fool not to be. There’s plenty to be afraid of. I’m afraid for you, for me, Gav and Amanda, the baby. We’ve still got to get you through this birth. I’m right terrified of that. But those are - normal fears- you know? The biggest fear - that I’ll be found out - that the Dark Lord will realize I’ve been working against him all these years - well that’s gone isn’t it? The worst has already happened and somehow - I’ve survived.”

“You’re incredible, you know. Most people wouldn’t have made it through that.”

“The Kabbalistic magic got me through. It gave me strength, somehow, to resist. That and being a panther.”

“You’re an incredible wizard.”

“You got me out.”

“It was Draco really. He was right heroic about the whole thing.”

“Good boy. I knew he had it in him.”

“You should be proud.”

“I am.”

Sev laid a cheek on Remus’ belly and felt a small ghostlike movement. within.

“I’m free, Remus,” Sev said. ”I’m really free.“ And he kissed his belly.

  
*********

After a few minutes, Remus stirred and moaned and started to get up.

“Where are you going?” Sev murmurred, grabbing onto him. “Stay.”

“Just have to piss,” said Remus. “Again.” He got up and groaned and put a hand to the small of his back. From where Sev lay looking at him his belly looked huge. His penis and balls dangled below.

"You really are a sight you know.”

“Ta ever so,” said Remus, casting about in the moonlight for something to put on. “Where’d that dressing gown get to. Ah-hah!” He found it and put it on and left the room.

When he returned Sev watched him lazily from the bed.

“You’re starting to waddle,” he commented.

But Remus was standing with his hand on his belly, an odd look of concentration on his face, his nostrils flared, and did not respond.

“What's the matter?” asked Severus sharply, suddenly concerned.”Is he kicking?”

“No,” breathed Remus, looking frightened. “It’s……tight.”

“Let me see,” said Sev, getting out of bed quickly to put his hand on the bump. It _was_ tight, like a hard ball. No tiny hand or foot was poking through now.

“Isn’t that normal?” asked Remus anxiously, “At this stage? Braxton something whosits?”

“I think so,” said Severus slowly.

“I brought those pamphlets from the ministry.”

“Where are they?”

“In the satchel over there in the corner.”

“ _Accio Pamphlets,_ ” said Sev and the pamphlets came flying into his hand. Impatiently he flicked on the bedside lamp. He sat down on the side of the bed, naked, and thumbed through anxiously, looking for the needed information. Remus sighed and got into bed beside him, his belly relaxing once more. He put his head in Sev’s lap.

“Calcium helps,” Sev announced, reading. “You need milk, Lupin. Fuck! Why didn’t I buy some calcium tablets when I was in Tesco’s last?”

“There’s loads of goats milk,” said Remus. “And bean’s have calcium. Aren’t there some herbs that are rich in calcium?”

“Comfrey,” said Severus automatically. “Lobelia, Rue. We can look tomorrow. Or I can. You're supposed to stay off your feet it says. And drink a lot of water.”

“All right,” said Remus.

“I wish we had some calcium tablets. Why in Merlin’s name are we on a blasted island? I can’t apparate anywhere.” The thought that Remus might go into labor prematurely filled him with true terror.

“I’m fine now, Sev,” said Remus. “See?” He grabbed Sev’s hand and laid it on his belly which was soft once again.

“He’s not moving.”

“Sleeping,” Remus sighed. “Hold me?”

“You’re having a glass of milk first.”

“Okay.”

“Hand me that dressing gown.”

Remus took off the flowered dressing gown and handed it to Sev who put it on. He went downstairs and returned with a large glass of goat’s milk. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Remus drank it. He handed the empty glass back to Sev and made a face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t really like milk.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“You look hot in that dressing gown though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” and Remus. “Really.” And he pulled Sev in and kissed him.

“I’ve no clothes, Lupin.”

“We’ll figure something out.The important thing is that you’re away from That Bastard. What happened to your wand?”

“He has it.”

“I wonder if Pepper and Spider have a spare. You’re going to need a wand.”

“What happened to the others - Draco and Harry and the rest?”

“Our motley band of teens?”

“Yeah.”

“Draco and Dudley went back up north - apparently they’re being really effective at keeping track of the movement from the inside, and Tonks and Kingsley needed them back. Harry, Ron and Hermione are staying on at Shell Cottage. They’re up to something, but they wouldn’t tell me what it is.”

“Little bastards,” said Sev. “Whyever not?”

“I don’t know. I guess they’re still operating under the _Dumbledore told us not to tell anyone_ clause.”

“But that’s stupid,” said Sev. “We already know everything.”

“I couldn’t get anything out of them. And they refused to come back here with me.”

Sev shook his head. He pulled off the flowery dressing gown and got naked into bed with Remus who snuggled into his arms, yawning.

“You need a shave,” Remus murmurred as Sev bent to kiss him and he felt the scrabble of a weeks’ worth of beard against his cheek.

“Mmm, and a haircut,” Sev murmurred.

“I don’t know,” said Remus, pulling at a dark strand thoughtfully. “I kind of like it long.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“I was trying to look more gay,” said Sev.

“Just look like you,” said Remus sleepily. “And I’ll like it.”

**********

Sev woke the next morning with the birds and lay there for a long time, listening to their riotous twittering outside the window. Remus’ breath was soft and even beside him. At last he roused himself and went down to the kitchen.

Every room in that house had a view of the sea. The sun was just up, spreading its golden light low over the water, turning the clouds pink. Sev stood at the kitchen window for a long time, staring at the waves, watching the sun climb into the sky. The whole world was filled with light. Sev looked and looked, as if all that light could somehow counteract all the darkness he had been through.

At last Aunt Pepper bustled in, wearing a fuzzy purple dressing gown, her hair in a kerchief.

“Sevvy!” she said, smiling at him happily. “You’re you again.”

“Yes,” he said.

“Coffee? Or tea?

Sev shrugged and spread his hands. “Whatever’s easy,” he said. His voice felt gruff, unused.

“I prefer coffee first thing in the morning,” she declared.

“Can I help?” he offered.

“Sit,” she commanded. “You’ll just get in my way.” She busied herself with cups and water and a large old fashioned percolator, which was soon bubbling on the stove, releasing a heavenly aroma.

“All right then Sevvy?” she asked as she brought him a cup.

Coffee. Sunlight on water. Aunt Pepper’s kitchen. Remus and the baby, Gavin and Amanda, all sleeping safely upstairs.

“It’s good to be alive,” he responded.

“It is indeed,” she agreed. “I like your new man.”

Sev felt himself coloring, the heat rising to his cheeks.

“He’s kind,” she said. “And obviously intelligent. And good with children.”

“Yes,” Sev replied. And then added, so low he wasn’t sure she heard him, “And good with me.”

She smiled at him. “It’s nice to see you happy, Sevvy,” she said. “You deserve it.”

Sev drank his coffee.

“You could use a haircut, though.”

“I’m thinking of growing it long again,” he responded.

********

Sev brought Remus a cup of coffee in bed. Remus stirred and smiled and took it gratefully, and Sev lay down beside him, in a warm patch of spring sun that was falling across the bed. They listened to the birds who had not stopped their riotous celebration of the spring day. It sounded like a party outside their window.

“I think Draco and Dudley are seeing each other,” said Remus thoughtfully, stroking Sev's hair.

“What?”

Remus just looked at him and nodded.

“Dudley? Petunia’s son? The Muggle boy?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“How can you tell?”

“Just a feeling. They seem pretty happy together though.”

Sev shook his head. “The world is a beautiful and mysterious place,” declared. He put his hand on Remus belly and felt a kick, and then another.

“He’s looking for you,” said Remus, yawning.

So Sev moved his head until it was resting against Remus’ belly, his ear against the watery world where the baby floated and stretched and kicked and found himself saying things that he never, ever had imagined he could say, how he loved him and could hardly wait to see him, that soon he would hold him in his arms, and that he and Remus would always, always keep him safe, and that he had a special song he would sing just for him.

“Do you really know a song?" asked Remus, his fingers moving lazily through Sev’s hair.

“I’m improvising, Lupin,” said Sev. “I’ve no idea. What do you sing to babies?”

“I know a song,” said Remus quietly. “My dad used to sing it to me.”

“Best sing it now then,” said Sev. “Then he’ll know it after he’s born and it will comfort him.”

“All right,” said Remus, and he sang, the old Welsh lullaby his father had sung to him, when he had been a boy. His husky voice filled the room, and when he was done, Sev felt as if a spell of peace and safety had been cast.

There was a shy knock on the door.

“Come in,” Remus called, and Gav and Amanda were in the room.

“Mr. Sev,” they cried with delight, and they ran over to him. Their arms went around his neck. He felt their thin shoulders as his arms went around them. He smelled the clean childish smell of them, and his eyes were hot with sudden tears.


	41. Across the Moonlit Sea

They had a few weeks of peace.

The moon waned and then there was no moon and then it appeared again, a thin bright crescent in the western sky and though their days on the island were peaceful and safe Remus watched the moon anxiously as it waxed.

He felt heavy and awkward. He moved slowly through the days. He felt like an ox - or a hippogryph. He had never really understood how being top heavy made one awkward and he had a new appreciation for the ungainly beasts and their heavy, lumbering gait.

He felt the baby move lower, into his pelvis. His nipples got bigger, more tender. The Braxton Hicks contractions came and went. When they got too bad he drank a glass of goat’s milk and that seemed to quiet things down. Sev made him rest, and drink water. Sev scoured the island for herbs, and brewed bitter teas that Remus dutifully swallowed. He had started brewing a batch of wolfsbane potion, but Remus was not sure he was going to make it to the full moon before the baby was born.

  
********

The moon was half full, riding high over the spring sea, turning the waves to polished silver. Sev had made Remus go to bed early. He had read to the children and tucked them in, and now he sat outdoors on a rise above the sea. He watched the waves for a long time, the clouds scudding across the moon, turning opalescent and shiny as they moved across the half faced globe.

At last he went inside. The house was quiet. Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider were already asleep. He locked the door and went upstairs, treading as lightly as he could. As he ascended the stairs he was surprised to find the bathroom door closed and the shower running. He knocked.

“Taking a shower,” came Remus’ muffled voice.

Sev opened the door. “It’s me,” he said.

“Oh,” said Remus sticking his head outside the billowing curtain. “Come on in then, as it’s you.”

Sev came into the bathroom and closed the door. He went to the toilet and pissed. “I thought you were asleep,” he said.

“Couldn’t sleep,” said Remus. “My back is bothering me. I thought the shower might help…...Ooh,” he added, letting out his breath, a low animal moan.

“What’s the matter?” asked Sev, instantly on high alert. He had heard Remus make many different sounds in their months together, but never one quite like that.

“ ‘s tight,” said Remus breathily.

Sev pulled back the curtain and put his hands on the bump. It _was_ tight, but after a moment it softened again, and Remus leaned back against the white tile of the shower and sighed.

“Just another Braxton Hicks whosit,” he said.

“Are you sure?” asked Sev.

Remus shrugged. “You’re getting all wet,” he said.

It was true. Sev’s black t-shirt and jeans, which had been transfigured to fit him from some old things Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider had lying about, were soaked and clinging to him.

Remus cocked an eyebrow. “Best get in with me then,” he said.

Sev was more than willing. Remus looked glorious standing there in the water and the steam. Sev locked the door and wrestled out of his clingy wet clothing while Remus watched him hungrily, then he stepped into the steamy hot shower. He took his time, worshipping Remus with his mouth, the hot water making everything slippery and smooth. He kissed and licked, the small breasts, the firm rise of Remus' belly and finally, his beautiful, long cock, that gorgeous thing, while Remus leaned back, panting and moaning appreciatively. The Sev turned him round and leaned him against the white tiles, and soaped his arse. He wanted him now, wanted him badly, the need rising from the base of his spine, traveling up his back, tingling over his shoulders, down to his belly and his cock. He put his arms around Remus and pressed in, the sensation of wet smooth skin on wet smooth skin was overpoweringly sexy. He grabbed Remus’ hips and entered him and then it was just hot and fast and good. Sev had one hand on Remus’ belly, the other on his cock and they came together, moaning into each other in the heat and the steam and the wet.

Sev pulled out and leaned back against the tiles, letting the water run over him. Remus nestled back against him and sighed.

“My body is going to be much less…..female when all this is over,” he said, looking down at himself lazily.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem for me,” Sev said. “You’re not all that female now, to tell you the truth,” and he cupped Remus’ soft cock with his hand and gave it a gentle, possessive squeeze. “Just so goddamn sexy all the time. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I think it’s because I like it so much,” said Remus, smiling up at him. He reached up to kiss him, but then took a sharp breath in and he closed his eyes. He arched his back and  leaned against Sev. He let out that low animal moan again and the bump was a tight hard ball. “Oh shit,” he grunted. “It’s gripping…..right in my back.”

At last he relaxed. He opened his eyes and looked at Sev through the steam with wide worried eyes. Sev saw a tint of blue in his deep brown irises. That was odd. He had never seen that before. He felt the tingle of magic in the air.

“It’s time to go, Lupin,” he said.

“I know,” said Remus. "It is."

 ********

They woke Amanda and Gavin to tell them good-bye and that it was time for them to leave to have the baby. Aunt Spider found them an old rucksack to pack a few necessities. Sev rushed around and packed some clothes. Toothbrushes and razors. The baby clothes, still in their  yellow shopping bag from the baby store. He poured his half finished wolfsbane potion into a mason jar. Aunt Pepper fixed them tea and cauliflower sandwiches to bring along and they all walked down to the beach in the moonlight together to see them off. Remus got in the boat. Sev and Aunt Pepper pushed off. Sev hopped in and started rowing over the silvery moonlit sea. The children and the aunties stood on the shore and waved until they could see them no more.

Sev rowed as if his life depended on it, putting all the energy from the rising panic inside him into rowing the boat as fast as he possibly could. If there had been any doubt in his mind whether Remus was in labor as they were getting ready to go, by the time they were in the boat there was no question. Remus sat on the bottom of the boat, between Sev’s knees, and every ten minutes or so he closed his eyes and grabbed Sev’s leg and breathed through another contraction. About halfway to the mainland Remus said “Oh,” and looked up at Sev.

“I think I peed myself. I’m all wet.”

“It’s your water breaking,” said Sev, who had read all about it in the pamphlets. He rowed faster.

 **********

Once on shore they apparated to the Forbidden Forest and started walking up the trail to the rise where they had met Firenze months ago. Remus stopped periodically to lean against Sev, closing his eyes and breathing heavily. He seemed to be doing worse. There was a shine of sweat on his pale face, in spite of the cool night and with each contraction he sagged heavily into Sev. Sev helped him along as best he could, kicking himself every minute that they hadn’t planned things out more carefully. He had no idea how to find the centaurs, or how to contact them.

The weather was different this far north, chillier. A cool wind was blowing from the east and then it started to rain - a light misty kind of rain. It made the trail slippery and treacherous. Sev walked behind Remus on the steep rocky path to catch him, lest he fell.

They made their way up the trail slowly, painfully, until they came to the spot where they had  met Firenze on that cold moonlit night months ago. Now it was rainy and cloudy and the hilltop was utterly deserted. Sev felt the near panic he had felt all night erupting into full blown, actual, uncontrolled panic. There was no one there. He had no idea what to do next.

It was windier up on this barren hilltop, the rain was stronger. It reminded him suddenly of  another windy, rainy night, on another hilltop long ago. The night he had found out that Voldemort was going to kill Lily. The night he had gone to Dumbledore, and agreed to work for him, and changed his allegiances forever.

He remembered Dumbledore’s voice saying. _“Hope will always come at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”_

But Dumbledore was dead. And here he was, on an abandoned hill deep in the forest, with Remus huffing and moaning at his side, clinging to him. The aura of  of magic was stronger around him as his labor progressed. When Remus looked at him the blue flecks in his eyes were more pronounced. The brown and the blue  were starting to swirl, like centaur’s eyes.

“I love you,” he said to Sev, in a lull between contractions. “I just want you to know - if I don’t make it - I love you.”

“You’re going to make it,” said Sev, and put his arms around him and kissed his head.

Remus buried his face in Sev’s shoulder and sighed.

“I’m not going to let you die, Remus,” Sev said fiercely into his hair. “Not now.”

Sev pulled him closer and drank in his familiar smell - of clean soap and under that the faint animal tang of the wolf. He felt the baby pressed tight between them, and his heart welled with love and he knew what to do.

He took out his borrowed wand and cast a spell. “ _Expecto Patronum!”_ he cried into the night, keeping the happy thought of the baby, tucked up between himself and Remus in his mind. The patronus that erupted from his wand was not a silver doe as it had always been, but a phoenix. Sev watched in wonder as it circled them three times, filling the windy hilltop with its light. It sang a song of love and hope, then with an unmistakable gesture of its head, beckoned them to follow.

*********

It was a short walk through the woods, but it seemed long. They followed the silver light of the phoenix patronus as it moved among the trees. The wind and the rain were getting stronger. Remus paused frequently, leaning against Sev, breathing, then went on. He didn’t talk anymore.

At last they came to another clearing and there Firenze stood, glimmering white, his blond hair slicked down by the rain. He seemed to be somehow lit from within. Remus, too had a faint blue glow around him now, in the dark night.

"Give me your wands,” Firenze demanded, without ceremony or greeting.

“What?”

“Wizards cannot travel in centaur’s territory with their wands. That is our law.”

“I’m not giving up my wand,” Sev hissed but then Remus took a sharp breath in and clutched him tightly.

“It is our law,” said Firenze. “And it doesn’t look as if you have much time.The wolf’s hour is drawing near. Your wands will be returned to you when you leave our lands.”

“I….. there’s a war…. The Dark Lord,” gasped Sev. Remus was leaning into him heavily, his breath short and staccato. “Hurts,” he whispered into Sev’s ear.

“You are safe from him with us,” Firenze replied. “He will not enter our country. But wand bearers are not permitted.”

“Fine,” said Sev, and handed his borrowed wand to Firenze. He hated the damn thing anyway. It was nothing like his own wand, which Voldemort had taken from him. He rifled in Remus’ robes, found his wand and handed that to Firenze as well. Firenze took the wands and tucked them into the quiver of arrows on his back.

“Follow,” he said, and turned into the woods.

Remus  straightened. The contraction was over. He gave Sev a small smile and followed the centaur into the woods.

***********

The path continued on a long, steady uphill. Sev heard thunder rumbling in the distant hills. The light rain was falling steadily, making the steep trail treacherous and slippery. They walked in single file, Firenze, then Remus, then Sev. Remus picked his way slowly over the rough trail. His belly was huge in front of him, making him unbalanced. Sev yearned for his wand, to light the way. Remus slipped on a wet rock and fell backward and Sev put out a hand to steady him. For a minute his eyes rolled back in his head, and he was even paler than before. Then he looked  at Sev, smiled a wan smile and started picking his way up the trail again.

“Can’t you do something?” Sev hissed at the centaur.

“He has to walk the trail himself,” said Firenze, gravely, those damn eyes, ice blue and white, swirling coldly. “That is how the magic works.”

“Bind us!” Sev said now, desperately.

The centaur just looked  at him, those kaleidoscope eyes piercing into him, taking his measure.

“I know you can do it!” Sev said. “I know it is part of your magic. Bind us!”

“Why?”

“Why?” he  asked, hoarsely.The thunder rumbled closer, the wind was picking up. “Isn’t it obvious?” It was so obvious to him at that moment, he couldn’t believe he needed to explain it. But he knew what he  wanted. It was suddenly very clear to him. Remus was on the verge of death. He knew he might not make it. And Sev himself could be called away at any moment, for the final battle. He might not make it, either.

The centaur looked at him steadily. So did Remus, for that matter. They stood on the steep trail, the three of them, in the rain, and at least Remus had a moment to catch his breath.

“I need him to know what he means to me,” Sev said and he heard the catch in his voice. “Before it’s too late.”

The thunder was getting closer and the wind was rustling the leaves in the trees.

Remus looked at him his eyes wide, his pupils dilated. “Is that really what you want?” he asked.

Sev took him in his  arms and kissed him, the baby bump pressed against his belly. “Yes, of course it is, “ he said.

“Really?”

“You’re so smart about so many things,” Sev said, kissing the top of his head. “How come you haven't worked this one out yet?”

The  storm broke on them then, and the rain was coming down in sheets.

“Very well,” said Firenze, through the noise of the storm. “Join your hands and I will bind you.”

It was over in less than a minute. Sev felt the centaur’s magic wash over him, ancient and deep, older than the earth, old as the stars. He felt the heat of the magic where his hand was joined to Remus, felt the binding take place, heart to heart, soul to soul. Lightning flashed, illuminating them both with its harsh white light, and then the thunder crackled around them. Sev kissed Remus, and for one brief beautiful moment there was nothing else in the whole world but the two of them, and the love that they felt. Then Remus was gripped by another contraction, and when that ended, they headed up the steep trail once again.

*******

At last the landscape changed. The rocks got bigger and bigger until they formed huge cliffs, standing high and sheer in the dark wet woods, with the trail running narrowly between them. There was a sound of water running, that grew steadily louder, until it drowned out the sound of the thunder and the falling rain.They were approaching a river, rushing and tumbling somewhere in the dark. A grey dawn was breaking, and a glimmer of red shone under heavy clouds  in the eastern sky.

They came to a cave, with a warm red fire glowing within, and a  female centaur standing at the entrance. Her eyes were every shade of blue on earth, from the sky to the sea to the deepest amethyst. They swirled violently when she saw the state of Remus who was beyond words now, in one continuous contraction, leaning into Sev as if he would never let go.

“I am Laura,” she announced. “Chief midwife to the centaurs. “Welcome wolf, and your companion.” Her black hair tumbled about her pale face and down her back in loose curls. Her hide was black as midnight.

“Off! “ she commanded, imperiously, pointing at Remus’ clothing and somehow Sev worked him out of his soaking wet robes, his maternity trousers, his pants. He was pale, panting,his eyes swirling, brown and blue.

Laura made Remus lie down on his back, on a bed of soft leaves and grasses deep in the cave that was illuminated by the crackling fire. She checked his pulse, and listened to the baby with a metal tube, rounded at one end to lie flat on his round belly.

“I’m going to check you now,” she said gently. She knelt down beside him, folding her black forelegs neatly under her, and her hand disappeared in between Remus’ legs.

“He’s fully dilated,” she said to a second female centaur who had appeared as if out of nowhere, at her side.This one had dark brown skin that faded seamlessly into dark brown flanks, hair in a halo of tight curls around her head, and eyes as green as the deep forest on a summer’s day. “But I think it’s, yes. It's a handling presentation. We’ll have to try to move the baby.”

“Wolf,” she said, and Remus opened his eyes and looked at her. “I need you to get on your knees, all right? Arse up, chest down. Can you do that for me?”

He nodded, and Sev helped him roll over onto his knees. He lowered his chest to the ground, and then moaned again with another contraction. Sev grabbed his hand and squeezed it until it was over and Remus relaxed once again.

“More” she commanded. “Stick that butt in the air. Sway your back down. We’ve got to get that baby to move.” She put her hands on his belly and, as the next contraction came on, she  gently pushed, molding the baby into a different position with steady pressure.

As the contraction let up Remus gave a small gasp. “Oh,” he said. “I felt something. Not a contraction. Something different! Like…….a wiggle.”

Laura smiled. “The baby moved,” she said.

“Oh,” said Remus, as another contraction started. He gave a deep grunt. “I…...I have to push!”

“Go ahead,” Laura said.

Remus gasped and his face squeezed tight in concentration. Sev kneeled behind him on the bed of leaves and grabbed him around the chest. The force of the contraction rocked both their bodies.

“Breathe,” Laura commanded. “Breathe and push. We’re going to get this baby out now.”

And Remus pushed again. Sev held onto him and tried to hold him steady, give him something to push against. When at last, he relaxed, he looked up at Sev, and his eyes were twirling blue and brown kaleidoscopes. He closed his eyes and rested his head against Sev’s shoulder, and for a minute all was peace.

Then another contraction gripped him, and Sev held onto him while Remus pushed with his whole body. His breath was coming in short soft gasps and his face was clenched tight. Laura slipped a hand between his legs again, below his balls.

“The baby’s coming,”  she said. Her eyes, which were every shade of blue that the world ever dreamed of, were smiling up at Sev. “I can feel the head. It’s right here.”

Remus relaxed again, sagging into Sev, a dead weight. “I love you!” he gasped. He closed his eyes, as if gathering his strength. There was another minute of deep peace and then he was gripped by another contraction and this time Sev saw it, the dark stripe of the head, pushing out for a moment, then receding back in.

“Next one,”  Laura said, looking at Remus. “You ready?” Remus nodded, then took a deep breath in and grabbed onto Sev. He pushed and pushed.  “Keep going!” Laura said  and the dark stripe got bigger, blooming into a circle until there was a purple baby head resting  between his legs and Remus let loose and collapsed against Sev once again.

“There’s a cord,” Laura said. “Breath, wolf. Let up for a second. Don’t push,” Her hands were busy, slipping the luminescent white cord around the baby’s head while Remus panted.

“I have to!” Remus shouted and with a rush of bloody fluid the baby was born into the centaur’s  hands.

Something seemed to be wrong, though. Sev felt as if his heart had stopped as he watched Laura, her face suddenly tight with concern, patting at the purple, impossibly scrawny body of that little baby. She was rubbing him down with a blanket, slapping him on the feet, massaging his tiny chest with her finger. “Come on baby! Come on!” she whispered. “You can do it!” She put her mouth right on his, and breathed into it.

She took her mouth away and the baby gave a loud startled gasp. Then the cave was filled with a piercing cry, and Sev watched his skin turn from purple to a deep rosy pink.

That sound, the startled cry of his son as he took his first breath of cold air was something Sev never forgot for the rest of his life. It was a lusty, joyful sound, filled with life, demanding and pure. Laura was smiling again, and she laid the naked babe right on Remus’ chest, the cord still attached.

Remus put his hands on that tiny little baby (So tiny! How could he be so tiny?) and gazed at him in wonder.

“Baby!” he said.

“You did it!” said Sev and he kissed him. “You brilliant hermaphrodite werewolf!”

There was a lot of activity with cutting the cord and delivering the placenta and checking it to make sure it was all out, but Sev and Remus only had eyes for the tiny perfect being that was nestled on Remus’ chest. They watched as he sighed and yawned, they counted fingers and toes, marveling at the tiny translucent nails, like delicate seashells. After a while he started nuzzling around and Sev guided his head over until his mouth found a breast. He latched on at once, as if he knew just what to do. “Oh,” said Remus. It was the strangest sensation, but the baby was clearly content, working his lips and cheeks purposefully.

“Your milk won’t really come in for a few days,” Laura told him, “But he’s getting colostrum now, and it's good for him to suck.”  
  
“Do you think I can really feed him?” Remus asked, wide eyed.

"I don’t see why not,” said the midwife. “It is common practice, among the male centaurs.”

The centaurs cleaned things up so gently and efficiently they hardly noticed it and brought them  soup and mead, and left them. And there they were, Sev and Remus and their baby, curled together, in the cave deep in the woods. It was morning. The birds were singing outside and the light coming in the opening was watery and greenish, filtered through the new leaves on the trees. It was still raining. Water was dripping steadily from the trees. The baby nursed again, and they all three of them slept.

 


	42. Oakley

When they woke the rain had stopped and the sun was filtering through green leaves outside the cave. The baby looked at them with his wide newborn eyes, then he stretched and yawned and his pink rosebud mouth let out a piercing cry. Remus took him to the breast again and he nuzzled hungrily, found the nippple and sucked contentedly. Sev looked on in wonder, marveling anew at this tiny perfection.

“How are you feeling?” Sev asked Remus, and he kissed him.

“Fine. Okay. Better than after a moon. He’s really beautiful, isn’t he?” said Remus, smiling down at the baby as he nursed. His mouth was wide open against the breast, his cheeks moving in and out as he suckled.

“Yes,” Sev agreed fervently. He had never seen anything so beautiful. Not even close. “He is.”

“Don’t you want to hold him?”

“Me?” said Sev, startled. “I…..I’ve never held a baby.”

“Best get used to it then,” said Remus, smiling at him fondly.

“What if I drop him?”

“Don’t do that.”

“I….” But Remus was thrusting the tiny bundle into his arms and Sev had no choice but to take him. He hardly weighed anything at all, but he was dense with life. How could he be this small and live? He wriggled and settled against the warmth of Sev’s chest. He looked up with deep eyes of dark blue. He seemed to be taking in his new world, looking about with quiet amazement. And Sev was filled with a fierce possessive joy. How had it come to pass, that with all his errors, after a life of loneliness and hiding, he had been given this tiny precious child to love and protect? The baby yawned, wrinkling his nose, then turned his huge slate blue eyes and stared right into Sev’s and gazed at him with such a serious look on his face that Sev shook his head and laughed.

“Hello little mite,” he said.

“Did you decide on a name?” Remus asked.

Sev hesitated, and swallowed. He ran a finger over the baby’s head, smoothing back the fine black hairs. His skin was incredibly soft. Sev’s finger looked huge and rough moving over his delicate scalp.

“It's really up to me then,” he said.

“Your first act as his father,” Remus replied.

Sev looked at the little baby a long time as he lay in his arms. He was so tiny, so frail. It was hard to believe he was even human. But Sev realized, with a whole new set of terrors opening before him, that he would grow and change. That he would become a bigger baby, a child, a youth, a man. That someday, with luck he would be sitting in the same situation Sev was in now, trying to choose a name for his child. The possibilities for catastrophe along the way seemed too numerous to count, and yet here they were, safe and warm in this leafy bower, with their newborn babe nestled between them. They had come this far. Maybe they would get through the rest as well.

“We can’t just call him little what’s his name forever,” Remus said.

Sev took a deep breath “Oakley, then,” he declared. He had already decided weeks ago, he realized.

Remus smiled up at him. “I like it,” he said. “Oakley it is.” He touched a finger to the baby’s wee nose. “Hello Oakley.” Oakley gave a tiny baby yawn in reply.

“What about a middle name?” said Sev.

“I’d like to use my father’s name,” said Remus quietly. “He would have loved him so much.”

“What is it?”

“Romulus.”

“Oakley Romulus Lupin,” said Sev.

“Oakley Romulus Lupin-Snape,” corrected Remus.

“That’s a big name for such a little handful.”

“He can manage it,” said Remus. “He’s going to be a strong person.”

“How do you know?” asked Sev.

“I can feel it,” said Remus. “Can’t you? Besides, he’s going to have to be,” he added. “Growing up in this family.”

 

********

Sev would never have believed that he could be perfectly happy doing nothing for hours but staring at a newborn human baby but apparently he had been wrong. He wanted nothing but this; Remus, safe beside him, Oakley dozing and waking and nursing and dozing again. Any other concern seemed extremely far off and irrelevant. Any other concern would surely distract him from this, right here, right now, which was all that really mattered.

Eventually they fell asleep, and when Oakley’s restive crying woke them again it was late afternoon. This time he didn’t settle after he nursed, and his thin cries became increasingly louder. Sev picked him up and walked him back and forth in the cave but his wailing just grew more frustrated.

“Here Lupin - you try,” Sev said desperately, handing the baby to Remus. That aggravated, needy cry filled the whole cave, filled the whole world, filled Sev’s brain until he couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except wanting to do something, anything, to make it stop. He felt completely helpless and ineffectual. In what mad dream had he ever imagined he could actually be a father?

“He’s wet,” Remus said, over the wails of the baby.

“We have to change his nappy,” said Sev. Of course. He knew this about babies. They had to be changed. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He was obviously going to be terrible at this.

“How?” said Remus. They looked at each other, completely helplessly.

“Don’t you know?” said Sev, and there was a sharp edge to his voice. Oakley continued to howl. “I thought you would know. You're the birth parent.” Then he was horrified to see tears spring to Remus’ brown eyes. Oh fuck! Now they were both crying. This just would not do.

With a panicky sense that he had to do something before the world spun completely out of control Sev reached for the baby. “Give him here,” he said in a gruff voice.

“What are you going to do?” asked Remus warily, clasping Oakley tightly, which made the baby wail louder.

“If I can brew a potion I can change a nappy,” Sev said grimly. Remus wiped the tears out of his eyes furiously with the back of his hand, still clinging to the baby.

Sev took a deep breath. “Come on,” he said, more gently. He took his thumb and wiped a tear from Remus’ cheek. “I won’t hurt him. They left some supplies for us over in the corner. All right?”

Remus nodded and handed Oakley over. Sev took him gently. “It’s okay, little mite,” he said with more conviction than he felt. He put the baby up against his shoulder. Oakley seemed to respond to his show of confidence and his wails quieted to a disconsolate snuffling.

There was a stone shelf towards the back of the cave. The midwives had spread a blanket over it. There were baskets with sphagnum moss and soft cloths, and more blankets.

Sev laid Oakley down gently and unwrapped his blanket. The baby gave a few last hiccuping sobs and lay still, staring at Sev with that open newborn gaze. Remus got out of bed and stood behind Sev, looking over his shoulder.

Sev unwrapped Oakley gingerly and studied the way the midwives had fixed him up. He was naked under the blanket, except for the diaper that was made from a tightly tied cloth, stuffed with sphagnum moss. Sev studied the arrangement of knots for a long time. At last he undid the knots and pulled away the soiled, wet moss. Oakley waved his tiny fists and cooed. Remus put a hand on Sev’s back.

“It’s all right, little mite,” said Sev and he bent down and kissed Oakley’s nose.

He took a cloth and wiped the dark poo away - he supposed it was good that he had pooed - he really had no idea.

“Don’t hurt him,” said Remus anxiously.

“I’m being as gentle as I can,” said Sev. The poo was stickier than he had expected and Sev had to work at it a bit to get it off. “There,” he said at last. “All clean. Isn’t that better?”

Remembering the arrangement of knots he had memorized he took a fresh cloth and did the baby up in a new nappy made of sphagnum moss. It was a poor imitation of the midwife's job but he supposed it would do. He summoned his backpack and dug out the little romper decorated with quidditch balls. It took him a long while, but with gentleness and patience he managed to get the tiny arms and legs worked into the outfit. He did up the snaps, wrapped Oakley in a clean blanket and, feeling quite proud of himself, handed the baby to Remus.

“Wow,” said Remus, impressed.

Sev kissed the top of his head and steered him and Oakley back toward the bed. Once he had them settled he stood at the opening of the cave. The sun had set, and the stars were coming out, one by one, in the clear evening sky.

From the bed he heard Remus start to sing in Welsh, the lullabye that he had sung for Oakley before he was even born. His voice was low and husky and sweet. It filled the whole cave with a sense of safety and of peace.

**********

They stayed in that leafy bower for days. The midwives brought them food and taught them how to care for Oakley. Even though he was so small, there seemed to be a lot to do for him. Every day seemed to stretch on forever and yet each day seemed to fly by. Sev could never have imagined that taking care of a baby was so much work, but there always seemed to be something to do. And of course, Oakley woke every few hours throughout the night, and he and Remus were both befuddled by a lack of sleep.

The river which rushed by the cave led to a waterfall which fell into a quiet pool. Sev went there early in the mornings and swam naked in the icy water. He came out every time feeling washed clean, reborn, his skin glowing.

One morning Remus woke to Sev’s hands on his belly, stroking sensually. He opened his eyes and Sev was smiling down at him, one of those rare Sev smiles that made Remus feel as if the world had cracked open with a new kind of joy. He smiled back, and pulled Sev down to kiss his mouth.

“You still there?” Sev asked, letting his hands drift lower towards Remus’ cock.

“Checking to see if I’m still a boy?” asked Remus wryly. But he had already gone hard at Sev’s touch.

“I….erm….”

“Still a boy and still bent,” whispered Remus, his voice husky. He saw Sev’s nostrils flare, his pupils dilate, and he knew he had him. “Get in,” he commanded.

Sev glanced over at the basket where Oakley lay sleeping. “Can we….?”

Remus also looked over at the baby. “I think so. He’s asleep.”

He lifted the covers and pulled Sev close. Sev’s skin was cold from swimming in the frigid water and he snuggled into the warmth of Remus hungrily.

“Merlin you feel good,” Sev whispered.

“You too. You’re cold.”

“Mmmm. The river was icy.”

“Best get on with it,” said Remus, with another glance at the sleeping baby.

“All right,” said Sev, kissing hungrily."Not a problem." He started to nudge Remus over onto his belly, kissing the side of his face, pushing at his shoulder, but the full moon was near and Remus knew what he wanted. The blue was gone from his irises, replaced by a slight tinge of feral yellow and he surprised Sev by grabbing him by the shoulders, hoisting a leg across his thighs and wrestling him face down into the soft bed of leaves.

Remus felt as if he’d got his body back. He tore off Sev’s jeans halfway to his knees. It felt great to fuck without a huge belly in the way and from Sev’s gasping reaction he could tell he liked it too. Their bodies worked together, call and response, Sev’s obvious pleasure feeding Remus’ own.

And then, just as it was getting really good, Oakley’s thin needy cry filled the air.

“Ohhhh,” Sev groaned, turning his head to Remus. They looked at each other guiltily.

“I'm close,” Remus panted.

“So’m I.”

“Good for his lungs to cry for a minute,” said Remus and he kissed Sev’s eyes closed and fucked him, hard, harder until they finished together, gasping and laughing. “I’ll get him,” Sev croaked. He kicked his legs free from his jeans. He slipped out of bed and over to the basket and picked up the crying baby.

“What’s the matter little mite?” he asked and kissed his nose. Oakley cried louder. “You want your Daddy?” He brought the baby over to Remus and settled him in his arms.

“Get back in,” Remus commanded.

Sev spooned against the heavenly warmth of Remus’ back and looked over his shoulder. He was still trembling from the aftershocks of orgasm. He put his arms around Remus and pulled him close.

“Hello little one,” said Remus smiling down at the baby in his arms. Oakley made an eager snuffling sound as he rooted for the Remus’ nipple. He latched on and started to nurse hungrily, with soft contented grunts, waving his tiny fist in the air, while Sev looked on.

*********  
The moon came, and Laura watched Oakley while Sev and Remus ran in the deep and lonely woods of the centaur’s land. The next day, they dozed. Oakley nursed and slept beside Remus. In the afternoon he grew restless and Sev got out of bed. He took the fussy baby, and changed his nappy made of moss, but Oakley was still cranky and unsettled. Sev took him for a walk away from Remus, so he could sleep. He walked along the path to the stream, in the verdant spring forest, the tiny baby in his arms. They sat by the waterfall. The rush of the water seemed to quiet Oakley and he looked about with his wide, slate blue eyes. Sev lowered his nose to the baby’s tiny head and breathed in the new baby smell of him.

They sat there for a long time, listening to the water. Sev found himself talking to Oakley in a low voice, telling him about how he was little now but that someday he would grow to be big and strong, explaining to him about the world and all the amazing and wonderful things they would do together when he got a little older. And he started to tell him about how he had two fathers which was a little bit unusual, but that it was really okay, because he and Remus loved each other very much, and that was the crucial thing. And that he would the best other father he knew how to be, and that he would always keep Oakley safe and never hurt him. Sev thought of his own father and this last promise seemed like the most important of all.

When they got back to the cave the sun was setting and Remus was sitting up in bed, drinking broth. Sev handed Oakley over to Remus, then took the bowl and the spoon and fed him while the baby nursed.

“We should be getting home,” Remus said quietly. “They’ll be wondering what happened to us.”

“Yes,” agreed Sev. “We should.”

********

Lately, Draco had been staring at Dudley while he slept. It was stupid, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself, somehow. Dudley tended to sleep like a stone after sex but Draco would lie awake, sometimes for hours, unable to sleep, his mind busy with anxiety and regret.

It was so strange, he thought, as he lay there, watching the play of light and shadow over Dudley’s peaceful face as the moon moved across the sky. Two years ago he had known exactly who he was and where he belonged. The only son of a wealthy family, petted and adored, destined for great things. He had known so many things then, he mused. He had known that family was the most important thing, that family was blood and that the purity of that blood had to be protected above all else. Two years ago, he had looked up to Voldemort as the champion of that cause, as the leader of a new era of wizarding supremacy and greatness. Draco still remembered the yearning he had felt to be a part of that glory, the excitement he had felt when Voldemort had singled him out for favor. All he had wanted, back then, was to take the mark, to join the glorious battle, to do his part in the fight for the triumph of the wizarding race.

Two years ago, he thought bitterly, he had believed exactly what his parents wanted him to believe.

Then had come the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, the loss of the prophecy, and his father’s fall from grace. Then had come the awfulness of sixth year, while Draco, scared and alone, had struggled desperately to accomplish the terrible mission he had been given, to kill Dumbledore, to outwit his defenses and let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. And when he had failed at that, he had gone through months of disgrace and pure cold fear, knowing that Voldemort had it in for him, knowing that he was merely biding his time.

Since Snape had convinced him to leave the fold Draco had few regrets. He had pretty much worked out by the time he left that his family had tied their fortunes to the coat tails of psychopathic killer, a megalomaniac who was not to be trusted, a bully whose favor could turn in an instant, with disastrous consequences.

Now, well, he had no idea, did he? No idea at all. That haughty proud boy, so sure of himself and his place in the world was gone as if he had never been. Now he was a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Now he was all tangled up with a Muggle boy. His feelings were a confusing mix of lust, tenderness and blind terror. He didn’t even know anymore if he was gay or straight. Dudley said it shouldn’t matter. Dudley liked to remind him he’d left all his family’s expectations behind, that he could be whoever he wanted to be now. But Draco didn’t even know what that person would look like.

He thought of Sirius Black sometimes, the older cousin whom he had never met. Sirius had rebelled against his family’s expectations, lived life on his own terms. He had been Lupin’s lover, Draco knew, and had fought for the Order of the Phoenix. Harry and his friends talked about him in reverential terms, as if he had been some sort of outlaw hero. He had staked his life against the Dark Lord and been murdered by Bellatrix for it. Perhaps not a recommendation for a way to live your life, but Draco found himself wondering about Sirius, about the choices he had made, and wishing he had known him.

A soft knock at the door of their hotel room interrupted his thoughts. Draco got out of bed, pulled on some trousers and opened the door. He found Tonks there, dressed in a traveling cloak with a satchel in her hand.

Dudley stirred in bed and half sat up. His powerful shoulders shone in the moonlight. He rubbed his eyes and brushed his hand back over his buzz cut. “Whassup?” he asked sleepily.

“Harry’s broken into Gringotts and stolen a dragon,” said Tonks crisply. “The Great Bastard of Darkness is gathering his forces outside Hogwarts. The battle is beginning soon. Kingsley’s already there.”

“Gringotts?” said Draco confused. “What the…...a dragon? Is he okay?”

Tonks shrugged. “All I know is he got away. Time to go, boys. If you want to fight.”

“I…….er,” said Draco stupidly. But Dudley was already getting out of bed, digging about for clothing, fumbling to pack his few possessions.

“What about Dudley?” Draco asked. “He’s a Muggle, remember?”

“Merlin’s eyeballs, I nearly forgot,” said Tonks.

“I won’t be left behind,” said Dudley at once. “This is war. I’m fighting.” He continued to pack, while Draco stood there at the door.

“It’s dangerous,” said Draco.

“Duh,” said Dudley. “I know that.” He looked at Tonks. “I’ve done my part. I’ve earned it. You can’t leave me out of this.”

She looked him over, taking his measure. “No,” she said at last. “No, I suppose I can’t.”

 


	43. Race to the Battle

Draco sent an owl to Snape, and then took Dudley firmly by the arm. Tonks took his other arm and the three of them apparated to a seedy, grimy bar. Dusty bottles lined the walls and there was dirty straw on the floor. Draco recognized it as the Hogshead - he’d come here a few times, slumming with his Slytherin friends. The barman was a skinny grizzled fellow with piercing blue eyes and a dour expression on his face. He stared at Draco when he saw him. His look was one of unmasked hostility. Draco stiffened inwardly. The old man was vaguely familiar. Where had he seen that piercing blue eye?

“That’s Lucius Malfoy’s son,” the barman said to Tonks, narrowly.

“Yes,” she said “This is Draco Malfoy. He’s renounced the Dark Lord and come over to our side.”

“Hmph,” said the barman, looking doubtful. “You sure about that?”

“He’s been working for me for months, Ab. He and Dudley here are the two best spies we’ve got.”

The barman looked unconvinced.

“It’s true,” said Draco, looking at the strange man fiercely. “I’m with the Order now.” His words echoed in the quiet bar. He felt naked, exposed, under the old man’s glare.

“How can you prove it boy?” the barman said.

“I’ve no need to prove anything to you!” said Draco, growing hot. Dudley beside him glowered at the surly barman and looked suddenly menacing.

“Drop it, Ab,“ said Tonks firmly. “Draco is with me. I trust him.”

“Who’s this then?” said the man called Ab, turning his piercing gaze to Dudley. “I don’t recognize him. He’s no Hogwarts student.”

Dudley stepped forward. “I’m Dudley Dursley,” he said, his head held high. “I’m with the Order as well.”

“Dursley,” the old man said. “I know that name.”

“He’s Harry’s cousin,” said Tonks impatiently. “Can you let us through, Ab? There’s a war on, you know.”

The barman gave all three of them a very distrustful look, but at last he shrugged his shoulders. “Upstairs,” he said. “Through the portrait hole. If you’ve made a mistake in judgement, it's on your head.”

“I haven’t,” said Tonks. “Thanks, Ab,” She leaned up and kissed the old man on the cheek as she passed him, and his look suddenly softened.

Upstairs a portrait of a young girl hung open, revealing a stone passage behind it. Dudley grinned at Draco, gave him a thumbs up and climbed up onto the mantle and into the portrait hole. Draco followed grimly behind him.

***********

Sev stood at the mouth of the cave looking out at the glorious spring night. Remus was inside tending to Oakley, but after a few minutes he came out and stood beside Sev. The stars were shining and the new leaves rustled gently on the trees. There were frogs singing into the warm night, calling frantically to each other in their furious drive to mate. It was a strange, high, otherworldly sound. Sev put his arms around Remus from behind and pulled him close, resting his chin on the top of his head. They stood there together, content, listening to the night sounds, their baby peacefully asleep inside the cave.

The owl came swooping through the moonlit forest towards them with a note in its beak. The writing was Draco’s neat tight script _“H. raided Gringotts and stole a dragon. The battle is joined at Hogwarts. D. and I are on our way. Hope the baby is okay.”_

***********

Sev really didn’t have a plan. All he could think to do was get his wand back, get Remus and Oakley to a safe place, and join the battle. He sent the owl onwards to Aunt Pepper, asking her to come meet them with the boat.

Firenze led them to the edge of the centaur’s realm, and handed them back their wands solemnly.

“The centaur’s council meets tonight,” he told them. “I will advocate for your cause.”

“If the centaurs would come to our aid it would be deeply appreciated,” Sev murmurred, looking into those ice blue eyes.

“That is the outcome I will champion,” Firenze said. “But it all depends upon the stars. I wish you luck in the coming battle.”

“Thank you,” said Sev. He reached up to take Firenze’s hand. The centaur grasped it firmly. “Thank you for all you have done for us.”

“The centaur’s blessing is upon you,” he said, eyes swirling blue and white and grey. “All three of you. May the stars turn in your favor.”

And he melted into the dark woods around them.

They picked their way down the steep path. Laura had bound Oakley in a cloth to Remus’ chest so he could be carried comfortably. Luckily he was sleeping quietly. He seemed to be soothed by Remus’ movements as they made their way through the woods.

They could tell that there was something afoot as soon as they left the centaur’s realm. The whole forest seemed edgy, as if it was lying in wait. The wind stirring the new leaves on the trees sounded ominous. They heard the restless movements of animals in the woods, though they could not see them. A deer bounded across their path as if it was being pursued, then another, then a third. They heard the baying of dogs, or was it wolves?

As they came to the end of the trail Sev sensed movement ahead of them. He pulled Remus back, behind a large oak tree that hid them from the path.

“Who’s there?” came a hoarse voice, sickeningly familiar. Shit. Remus gripped Sev’s hand in the dark. He had recognized the voice as well. Sev prayed that Oakley would not cry. It was too late to cast a silencing charm.

“Come out,” said the voice. “Do not lurk in the presence of the Dark Lord.”

It was Wormtail. Then Sev heard a sound that truly made his blood run cold.

“Perhaps it is an animal,” came Voldemort’s high, cold voice. “I must go now - go to join my followers. They await me. I do not wish for them to grow impatient.”

“I saw something,” said Pettigrew. “I did. It went behind that tree.”

“Very well, Wormtail,” said another familiar voice. It was Bellatrix, her tone harsh and grating.

 _“Incendio!_ ” she shouted and the tree they were hiding behind burst into flames. Sev rolled back, grabbing Remus and Oakley, pulling them with him, away from the fire. Remus’ robes caught, and for a moment they were distracted, beating out the flames. When Sev looked up from the forest floor where all three of them had landed he was looking right up into Voldemort’s fierce red eyes.

“Severus,” said Voldemort, his cold voice thick with malice. “What a pleasant surprise.” He wore Nagini around his shoulders like a weird imitation of a shawl. The snake raised her head and hissed when she saw Sev, as usual.

Sev scrambled to his feet and stood in front of Remus and Oakley, his wand outstretched.

“How touching,” said Voldemort, and Sev could tell that he found the urge to play with his food irresistible. He was going to torture Sev, to show off his cleverness to his minions. That might just give them the chance they needed. “You wish to protect your werewolf boyfriend,” said Voldemort. “And his whelp.” Sev heard Bellatrix give an evil cackle.

“Hello, Tom,” Sev said, as calmly as he could. He clung tightly to his wand, holding it steady. He was silently reciting a spell, the kabbalistic incantation, hoping, praying, that it would work.

“Perhaps you imagine that you can repeat the performance of your old girlfriend - Lily,” came the cruel, cold voice. “Perhaps you are hoping that the wolf pup will somehow gain your protection if you die for it. Perhaps you are hoping it, too, will acquire a scar, like the boy you have so duplicitously protected.”

Voldemort chuckled to himself - the most sinister sound that Sev had ever heard.

“You can’t imagine that is going to work Severus,” said Voldemort, drawing out his words. “Much as you seem to believe otherwise, you’re no mother.”

Bellatrix gave a maniacal giggle of appreciation, at her beloved Voldemort’s cleverness.

“I’m the other father,” Sev replied steadily. “And believe me, Tom, when our families are threatened we other fathers can be fiercely protective.”

“Perhaps, Severus,” said Voldemort. He had his wand out, pointing at Sev. “But this is such a fortunate meeting. A chance for me to do what I should have done when I held you in the dungeon at Malfoy Manor. A chance to even the score!” Sev heard the fury building in his voice. Bellatrix and Wormtail had also drawn their wands.

“You have betrayed me, Severus. Me! The Dark Lord! You have dared to conspire against me! You have tricked and humiliated me! It is time for you to die, Severus Snape! I am going to kill you, right here, right now, and then you shall see what it means to betray the Dark Lord! And then I shall be the master of the Elder Wand at last!”

They both raised their wands. Sev saw the red eyes glow. He saw the murderous look in them and he knew what was about to happen. There was no time to cast a spell, but he felt the Kabbalistic magick rising smokey and dense from deep within him. From his wand, a wall of fire bloomed. It surrounded them in a protective circle - Sev, and Remus and Oakley. His family. “You’re not going to get us now,” Sev thought fiercely.

 _"Avada Kedavra!_ " Voldemort cried. Sev watched the green killing curse bounce off the protective flames and ricochet into the dark night. Remus staggered to his feet, holding the baby and stood beside Sev. From Sev’s wand more flames were blooming, forming a fiery golem, towering above them all. It walked through the protective wall of flame, it’s arms outstretched, toward Voldemort. The Dark Lord stood, his wand raised, his red eyes filled with horror, as he watched his curse deflected and the fire golem coming at him through the flames. He raised his wand to curse it, but the golem kept moving steadily toward him. Water poured from Voldemort’s wand. It turned to steam in the heat of the blaze, as the golem approached him, it’s arms outstretched hungrily. In the red light of the fire, Voldemort's eyes looked black, his skull-like face red. He swore bitterly  and then he took off, flying into the air and out over the forest, just before the fire golem engulfed him, as Bellatrix and Wormtail ran shrieking into the trees.

*********

Draco, Dudley and Tonks made their way through the dimly lit passage. It ended in a steep staircase and then they were in a brightly colored room, like some kind of clubhouse. There were hammocks hanging from the ceiling and people, a lot of people. They were standing about and talking excitedly. Draco saw banners with house colors - red, blue and yellow although Slytherin green was notably absent. He started to pick out familiar faces from the crowd. Kingsley was there, and Ron and Hermione. His eyes met Harry’s green ones briefly and they nodded to each other.

“Watch out! It’s Malfoy!” someone shouted. It was Neville Longbottom.

“Malfoy, what’s he doing here?” came a girl’s voice. Parvati Patil.

Draco was reaching for his wand, but the spell hit him before he could get it out. “ _Petrificus totalus!_ ” someone shouted. He was caught in a full body bind and Seamus Finnigan, his face horribly bruised, was standing over him, holding his wand outstretched and looking triumphant.

“Seamus, no!” shouted Harry.

“It’s all right mate,” said Ron. “Malfoy’s on our side now!”

Then Dudley lunged at Seamus and punched him right in the face. The sickening crack of Seamus’ nose breaking filled the tensely silent room. Seamus looked at Dudley, stunned, for only a moment and then he hit him back, right in the eye. Dudley grabbed Seamus by the shoulders and then the two boys were grappling furiously. They hit the ground with a thud, in an out and out brawl, fists flying, legs kicking.

“Dudley,” cried Harry. “Stop!” He went and laid hold of Dudley's jacket and somehow pulled him off of Seamus, while Ron and Luna grabbed Seamus’ shoulders and pulled him back. Draco stood frozen by the spell, watching the whole thing, unable to move a muscle.

Dudley and Seamus were both breathing hard. Dudley, with an obvious black eye, wiped blood from his nose with the back of his hand. Seamus had blood all over his face.

“He’s …….a…..Death Eater!” Seamus panted, breathing hard.

“Not anymore,” said Harry, loudly, so all the assembled could hear. “He’s come over to our side. I can vouch for him myself. So can Ron and Hermione.” They both stood beside Harry and nodded with determination.

There was a confused murmur among the assembled crowd, but people started relaxing and putting their wands away.

“Who’s this bloke, then?” asked Seamus suspiciously, gesturing toward Dudley. He touched his obviously misshapen nose gingerly.

“My cousin,” said Harry. “Everyone meet Dudley Dursley. Dudley this is…. Everyone,” Harry said sweeping the room with his hand. He went over to Dudley and gave him a hug, bloody nose and all, clapping him on the back. ”Welcome to Hogwarts,” he said.

“Why doesn’t he go to Hogwarts, if he’s your cousin?” asked Seamus skeptically.

“It’s…...complicated,” said Harry.

“I’m Muggle,” said Dudley simply. “But I’m here to fight. I’m with all of you! Death to the Dark Lord!” he cried, raising a fist in the air. This caused a shout to go up among the assembled crowd.

“Erm,.... Seamus, could you unbind Draco now?” said Hermione.

Looking somewhat reluctant, Seamus waved his wand _“Finite incantatem,_ ” he murmured. Draco staggered as he was released from the spell, and Harry ran over to steady him. Once Draco had caught his balance Harry offered him his hand and looked him in the eye.

“I’m glad you’re here, Draco,” he said.

Draco straightened up and looked back at Harry. “That went poorly,” he murmurred.

“Yeah,” said Harry under his breath. “Just wait until Snape shows up.”

********

After their encounter with Voldemort, Sev and Remus raced out of the forest as fast as they could run. They skirted the grounds of the castle which were eerily silent. Remus hung onto Oakley tightly.

At last they got out of the grounds to a place they could apparate from. “Go,” said Sev. He thrust the rucksack at Remus. “Get Oakley to a safe place. I owled Pepper to meet with you the boat. Go!”

Remus looked Sev in the eye and knew he was determined to stay and join the battle. There was not much sense in wasting time trying to talk him out of it. Remus himself felt exactly the same way.

“I’m coming back,” Remus said.

“Remus, no,” said Sev. “Oakley needs you. Please. No. Keep yourself safe.”

“He needs you, too,” said Remus. “And...and I need you. So don’t get yourself killed. Look out for Harry, if you can.”

He kissed Sev fiercely, then held him for a moment, foreheads touching and he chanted a familiar spell. It was the Celtic battle spell he had used months ago, to strengthen Sev against the Dark Lord. Sev felt the familiar pop and crackle of magick in his bones. "I love you," Remus whispered, and let him go.

“See you on the battlefield,” Remus said softly, and before Sev could argue further, he apparated away, with Oakley in his arms.


	44. Voice of Evil

In the Great Hall, Draco sat close to Dudley while the evacuation of the students was organized. He knew it was kind of girly, but he felt a sense of elation inside at the way that Dudley had stood up for him in the room of requirement. He shifted his weight a little bit, and let his leg lean up against Dudley’s under the table.

He avoided looking at his fellow Slytherins who were, he knew, startled to see him there. Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini kept giving him sideways glances. Pansy was actively trying to catch his eye. Crabbe and Goyle were notably absent. Full fledged Death Eaters by now, he was sure they had gone to join Voldemort’s ranks in the forest. He knew he must look strange to his old classmates in his Muggle skinhead gear. He had the urge to hide his face in his red and yellow scarf as he did during rallies. Instead he sat beside Dudley, whose left eye was turning into a truly magnificent shiner, and stared hard at nothing at all.

He was trying to avoid Pansy’s gaze. They had been dating all of last year. He had never officially broken it off with her, but then, he hadn’t exactly had the opportunity, had he? He had gone into hiding, and then everything had changed. He had barely thought of her, truth be told. But now, seeing her, he felt an uncomfortable squirm of guilt.

McGonagall was finishing her speech, telling the students to evacuate quickly and calmly when a familiar, high voice, magically magnified, reverberated in the Great Hall. Hearing that voice again filled Draco’s heart with cold fear.

 _“I know that you are preparing to fight,”_ came Voldemort’s voice. _“Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.”_

The hall was dead silent. Draco felt as if his heart was beating in his throat. He glanced over at Dudley who had gone very pale. He reached for Dudley’s hand under the table and gave it a quick squeeze.

 _“Give me Harry Potter and none shall be harmed,”_ the voice went on. _“Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you shall be rewarded._

_“You have until midnight.”_

Every eye in the room went to Harry who sat at the Gryffindor table between Ron and Hermione. His scar seemed to shine unnaturally vividly. He took a finger and pushed up his glasses.

In the silent hall, Pansy rose from the Slytherin table and raised a shaking arm “But he’s there!” she screamed. “Potter's there! Someone grab him!”

Many, many of the students in the hall rose as one to defend Harry, surrounding him, facing the Slytherin table with their wands out. Draco and Dudley stood up with the rest. Draco’s wand arm was trembling slightly, as he held it drawn against his fellow Slytherins, and he prayed no one would notice. Dudley stood beside him with his fists clenched. After a moment, Blaise Zabini got up from the Slytherin table and crossed the room to stand beside Draco. Pansy looked Draco in the eye. He returned her look at last and saw the light of understanding dawn. With a bitter face she turned away from him.

 _“She knows I’m a blood traitor now,_ ” Draco thought. Oh well. He wasn’t going back.

“Thank you Miss Parkinson,” came McGonagall’s clipped voice, breaking the tense silence. “You will leave the hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your house could follow.”

In the general chaos that ensued as the students started to evacuate, Blaise turned to Draco and offered his hand. “Good to see you’re still alive, man,” he said. “I knew you had defected. I’ve been wanting to join you for months.”

Draco shook his hand, grateful for this show of support from an unexpected quarter. The look of betrayal in Pansy’s eyes felt burned into his mind.

“Who’s this then?” Blaise asked, turning to Dudley. “Your mate?”

“This is Dudley,” said Draco. “My boyfriend,” he added quickly, before he had time to chicken out. If Blaise was surprised by this pronouncement he gave no sign of it. He offered his hand to Dudley without missing a beat. “I’m Blaise Zabini. Welcome. Though it’s kind of a shit time to be at Hogwarts. Nothing to do but fight.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” replied Dudley with a grin.

McGonagall was moving through the great hall, chivvying along the stragglers, dividing up the students who had remained behind to fight. She swept by and looked at their little group. “Zabini,” she said. “Are you with us? Do you intend to stay and battle the Dark Lord?”

“Yes ma’am,” said Blaise, straightening to his full height, an eager look in his dark eyes. “If you’ll have me.”

“Yes,” said McGonagall, looking him over appraisingly. “Of course we will. Best be under Professor Slughorn’s command. You too, Malfoy.”

“What about me?” asked Dudley.

McGonagall looked him up and down. “You’ll be with Professor Sprout and Neville,” she said, gesturing to where the two stood in deep discussion. “I believe they have a variety of toxic plants that you can lob at the Death Eaters, if you insist on defying common sense and putting yourself in harm’s way.”

Dudley just grinned at her and went over to join Neville.

*********

There was a hurried meeting in the Headmaster’s office to lay out a battle plan. McGonagall spread a map of the castle and the grounds on the desk and the other professors and members of the Order gathered around.

“The three highest points,” McGonagall said, “are the Astronomy Tower, Gryffindor tower and Ravenclaw Tower. We should have a team on each of those as they are the ideal spots to cast spells from. Any volunteers to lead the teams?”

“I shall lead the team for the Ravenclaw tower,” said Professor Flitwick.

“I’ll head up the Astronomy Tower,” said Professor Sprout. ”And you, Minerva, should lead the Gryffindor team.”

“All right,” said Professor Mcgonagall grimly. “Any volunteers to lead groups onto the grounds?”

“I will,” said Arthur Weasley promptly.

“Me too,” said Tonks.

“I can also lead a group,” volunteered Kingsley.

Mcgonagall turned her attention to the map. “Arthur, you can lead a group to the east wall, Kingsley to the north and Nymphadora to the west. The south end of the grounds is somewhat protected by the lake and I believe the merfolk will prevent the passage of any Death Eaters across it. We will need to choose deputies and establish a series of signals. I suggest….”

But her voice was cut off by a noise from the fireplace. The flames turned green for a few seconds and then Severus Snape stepped out of the flames.

“I’ve come to fight,” Severus said, straightening. He looked around the dead silent room. “Am I too late?”

From the wall the portrait of Albus Dumbledore spoke up. “Welcome, Severus,” it said. “I am so glad you could join us.”

********

It took a bit of explaining on the part of Dumbledore’s portrait, but those in the room who did not know about the role Sev had played against Voldemort were convinced soon enough that he was on their side. Minerva knew, of course, and Kingsley and Tonks, and Molly and Arthur. Fred and George Weasley looked at him with particular hostility. Sev glanced over at George sitting before the fire. From where he sat, his missing ear wasn’t noticeable at all, but then he turned his head, laughing, at something his brother had said, and then Sev saw it, the place where the ear should have been, and wasn’t. His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch of guilt. That ear had been removed by his own hand, by his own spell. _Sectrumsempra_ was his special invention, and the pride of his youth. Now he stared at where George’s ear had been and felt suddenly nauseated. He sat down heavily in an empty chair.

The discussion whirled around him but he really wasn’t listening. He was too nervous and anxious, too worried about Remus and the others who were preparing to join the battle, too exhausted from the events he’d already been through that night. He sat there lost in his own thoughts, his head in his hands.

Suddenly, all eyes were on him and he realized that he was the subject of discussion once again. He sighed and tried to focus.

“Severus,” said Bill Weasley, looking at him, “Voldemort wants you killed. If you go out there undisguised you’ll be a target. You should wear a glamour, or polyjuice yourself, or something.”

“No,” said Minerva. “He has to fight as himself.”

“It will be dangerous," said Bill. “More dangerous than it is already.”

“That’s true," said Minerva. “But people need to see him fighting for the Order. If they don’t he’ll never be able to prove that he really is on our side after all.”

“We risked a lot to get him out of Malfoy Manor,” said Bill. ”It’d be a shame if he goes and gets himself killed.”

“Now is a moment of truth," said Minerva. "If he isn’t recognized as a member of the Order today, he’ll likely end up condemned as a Death Eater. He could go to Azkaban….Or worse.”

“That's enough,” said Sev, standing and speaking more harshly than he had intended. But he didn’t really fancy his fate being discussed as if he wasn’t even there. It was his decision, after all. “Minerva's right. I’ll fight as myself. It’s worth the risk, if I come out of all this with my name cleared.”

His words hung in the quiet room. All eyes were on him, and Sev found he felt suddenly self conscious. He turned away and walked toward the fireplace and looked into the flames. He wondered what would happen, if he survived this night. He was hated and feared by many. Voldemort himself would do anything to get him killed. He thought of Draco, of Harry, of Dudley, all preparing to go into battle and his gut twisted with worry. He thought of Remus and his determination to return to Hogwarts to join the fight and he thought he might throw up.

Sev stood there and stared at the fire trying to collect himself, trying to quell the worry that was bubbling up from his gut like bile. He heard the talk and movement in the room as if from a great distance. He was vaguely aware that they were discussing strategy, dividing up the available fighters to greatest advantage.

As people started rising and leaving the room to return to the Great Hall, Minerva came and stood beside him. “How’s Lupin?” she asked in an undertone, looking into the flames.

“He’s……..fine,” said Sev, mortified to find his cheeks were growing hot. Damn! Damn! Damn! His stupid emotions. Was Remus fine? Where was he? He was supposed to be coming here, to join the battle, which meant he might not be fine at all.

“And…..the baby?” she asked.

“He’s……..beautiful,” Sev said, searching for words to describe him.. “He’s……perfect. Lupin is coming here to join the fight,” he added. “I…...I couldn't talk him out of it. He’s just…. Bringing the baby to a safe place.”

“Good,” said Minerva. “He’s a trained fighter with the Order. We could use his wand.”

And Sev supposed that was true, though he didn’t really think it was a good thing at all.

*********

The students who had stayed to fight milled about in small groups, talking and whispering excitedly, but they completely ignored the three that sat huddled together at the end of the Slytherin table. Draco sat with Dudley and Blaise without speaking, watching the nervous students as they discussed the coming battle. Draco was having a hard time focussing. He felt as if he was in some strange other world. It was so weird to be back at Hogwarts. It was exactly the same as it had ever been. It was he who had changed, he realized. He felt like a completely different person. Nerves over the coming battle churned in his stomach. He noted that Harry seemed to have disappeared somewhere. He wondered vaguely where he was. Come to think of it Ron and Hermione were also missing.

The teachers and members of the Order who had finished with their strategy meeting entered the great hall. A whisper went up among the students when they noticed Snape and before long everyone was staring at him. Suddenly, Neville Longbottom stood in front of the assembled students his wand outstretched. “Murderer!” he yelled.

“Mr. Sev!” cried Dudley and before Draco could grab hold of him he had hurtled across the Great Hall, knocking Neville to the ground and grappling him in a death grip.

“He killed Dumbledore!” screamed Neville in a strangled voice. His face was red, his wand still pointed at Sev from where he lay on the floor.

“Dudley, stop!” cried Draco. He ran after Dudley and started to pull him off of Neville. However several other wands had come out. Seamus, Hannah Abbott, Cho Chang and Michael Corner all stood ready to curse Sev.

“Oh, no,” said Luna, calmly walking out and standing in front of Sev. “Don’t curse Mr. Sev! He’s on our side now.”

“Luna, he can’t be! Get out of the way!” gasped Neville from the floor where he lay pinned down by Dudley.

“It’s true,” said Luna. “Isn’t it Professor McGonagall?”

“He’s a treacherous, evil, snake!” shouted Neville.

“No he isn’t,” insisted Luna. “We rescued him from Malfoy Manor. Didn’t we Draco?”

Draco didn’t really think his defense would count for much in this gathering of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws but he let go of Dudley, stood up and spoke into the tense silence. “Yes,” he said, his voice coming out rough and scratchy. “We did.” Where the fuck was Harry? His defense of Snape would count for a good deal more that Draco’s in this crowd.

McGonagall now moved forward and stood in front of Sev. She was joined by Kingsley, Tonks, Molly and Arthur Weasley and Dean. After a moment Draco also walked over and stood in front of Sev.

“What Luna says is true!” McGonagall said. “Professor Snape has, in fact, been working for the Order of the Phoenix. He has been our agent for years, posing as a Death Eater, spying on You Know Who, and providing us with valuable information. Whatever you may think of his previous behavior, you must understand that everything that he has done has been under the express orders of Albus Dumbledore!”

“He murdered Dumbledore!” yelled Neville.

“ _Everything_ he has done, Neville,” said Professor McGonagall firmly. ”Even that act, horrible as it was, was ordered directly by Dumbledore himself.”

Neville stared at her, breathing hard, a look of profound distrust on his face.

“Does Severus have the trust of the senior members of the Order?” McGonagall asked, in a crisp, authoritative voice. There was a round of nods and murmurs of assent from the group standing in front of Sev.

The castle shook with a sudden explosion. Outside the flash of red stunning spells was seen through the trees.

“I am sure that professor Snape would be happy to explain the details to you another time, Neville,” said Professor McGonagall crisply. “Now, however, the battle is begun and there is work to do. Dudley, if you would get off of Neville, I believe you are both working with Professor Sprout. Severus, if you would join your fellow Slytherins under Horace I am sure you can put your wand to good use.”

She held her wand aloft, and gold sparks flew out of it.

“For Hogwarts!” she cried, “To the battle!” and she swept out of the Great Hall.

**********

Remus apparated to the lonely stretch of Cornish coast where the boat was stored. He descended the steep trail to the cave and found Aunt Pepper, Aunt Spider, Amanda and Gavin waiting for him there.

“Mr. Moony!” cried the children, throwing themselves at him.

“Hullo, you two! Careful now! Don’t crush the baby!” said Remus, tousling the children on the head, and trying to hug them back as best he could with Oakley strapped to his chest. He undid the wrappings and Oakley sneezed and gave a startled cry, then looked around with wide eyes.

“It’s really a baby!” cried Amanda in wonder, looking at him.

“He’s titchy!” said Gavin. He did not look impressed.

“What’s his name?” asked Amanda.

“It’s Oakley,” said Remus. “Just as you suggested. Amanda, Gavin, meet Oakley.”

“Can I touch him?”

“Go ahead,” said Remus. “He might hold your finger if you put it by his hand.”

Amanda put out her finger tentatively and Oakley waved his fist around for a few moments and then grabbed on.

“Oh!” breathed Amanda. “He’s lovely! Can I hold him?”

“Erm….” Remus looked up at Pepper and Spider. “I…..the battle is begun. I must go - do my part. Sev is already there. Can you keep the children safe?”

“Of course,” said Aunt Spider briskly, stepping forward. “Are you certain that you are up to the fight, though Remus. You’ve just given birth.”

“I’m all right, “ said Remus grimly. “He was born a week ago.”

Aunt Spider went to take Oakley from Remus and his eyes suddenly welled with tears.

“It’s hard to leave him,” Remus said, holding onto the baby. Oakley burbled and waved his fists.

“It must be,” said Aunt Spider gently.

“I’ve been nursing him.”

“Best nurse him now before you go, then.”

So Remus sat on a rock in the damp cave and held Oakley to his breast. He spoke to him quietly while he nursed, told him that he loved him, and that he would be back as soon as he could. He sang him the lullabye, the same lullabye he’d sung him before he was born, the one he had learned from his own father long ago. When the song was over the cave seemed a little less chilly and a little less dismal, although Oakley's hair was wet with Remus’ tears. ”I’m doing this for you, little mite,” Remus whispered, using Sev’s pet name for him. “I want you to have a decent world to grow up in.” And he kissed him on the head and when he stood up, though his eyes were bright with tears, he smiled bravely and handed the baby to Aunt Spider.

“Amanda will have to hold him in the boat,” Aunt Spider said. “I’ll be rowing.”

“What about Aunt Pepper?”

“I’m going with you,” Aunt Pepper said. “I’m going to fight.”

“I….are you sure? Remus said “Aren’t you….?”

“Too old?” Pepper laughed. “Nearly but not quite. I’ve still got a bit of fight left in me. We'd best get going though. We don’t want to miss all the action.”

“I….erm yes…..Here’s his clothes,” said Remus, handing the rucksack to Aunt Spider, who was busy cooing at Oakley.

“Merlin’s ears, aren’t you a lovely thing,” she said. “Ah, Remus he’s beautiful. I’ve always wanted to be a gran. Don’t worry about him a bit. I’m an old hand at babies. He’ll be fine.”

“I’ve no nappies for him or bottles or….anything.”

“That’s what magic is for, dear boy. We’ll manage with a few spells and some goat’s milk and honey. And I’m sure Amanda and Gavin will be a tremendous help.”

“Oh yes,” said Amanda with enthusiasm, her eyes shining. Gavin merely looked at the ground until Amanda kicked his leg. “Yeah sure,” he said, then bent down and picked up a rock and skipped it over the still water of the bay.

“And if anything happens,” said Remus, looking Aunt Spider in the eye. “If we…...don’t make it back? The children?”

“We’ll look after them,” said Aunt Spider. “Of course, we will, dear heart. Don’t give it another thought.”

“Thank you,” said Remus hoarsely.

“Remus,” said Aunt Pepper gently at his elbow. “Leaving won’t get any easier if we delay.”

“No, I suppose it won’t,” said Remus.

They settled Amanda in the bow of boat with Oakley in her lap. Aunt Spider manned the oars, Gavin scrambled into the middle, and Aunt Pepper and Remus pushed them off.

“Goodbye! Good bye! Come home safe,” they called, waving. Their voices sounded thin and hollow over the water. Remus had to turn away, his shoulders shaking as they rowed away. But then Aunt Pepper put her arm around him in a companionable hug and without another word they apparated to Hogwarts and into the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort's words as well as the dialogue between McGonagall and Pansy are taken directly from cannnon.
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely words and comments! You are really keeping me going to the end of this very very long tale. Thanks for hanging in there with me, all of you! PB


	45. In the Fog of Battle

Draco didn’t like being separated from Dudley but there wasn’t much he could do about it. This was war and he couldn’t exactly whinge and demand to be placed with his boyfriend. But he hated the thought of Dudley out in this raging battle without anyone to look out for him. He had no magic, no weapon of any kind, except some snargaluff pods and venomous tentaculas and whatever else they were planning to lob at the Death Eaters. Dudley had made it up with Neville, shaken his hand and gone off with him to the greenhouses, his face shining with excitement. He was thrilled to be in the battle at last, thrilled to be in the midst of the magic swirling all around him.

He had no idea about the real danger he was in. Either that or he was too brave to care.

“Slytherins to me!” Tonks had called out and so Draco, Blaise, Slughorn and Snape had joined with her small party of Ravenclaws to head out to the grounds. Their job was to guard the perimeter, help reinforce the magical protections that had already been set up and fight off any Death Eaters who managed to penetrate them.

The Great Lawn was already exploding with spells and curses as they made their way across it, ducking and dodging the red light of stunners, the green light of the killing curse. Snape cast a shield charm around their group, and he and Tonks strode at the lead, wary and determined. Slughorn panted and wheezed at the rear - Draco thought he really ought to have been assigned to a post inside the castle and worried that he might hold them back. Draco’s heart was hammering in his chest, so loud he was sure the others must be able to hear it. He thought of his mother, her worried face and eyes, and then he thought of Dudley - the look he got - stubborn, determined, just as he moved in for a kiss. Draco knew he just wanted to get through this battle for those two things, to see his mother, to get her to understand, somehow that he was not a deserter or a coward, and to hold Dudley once again, see that determined look on his face. He looked about at the other members of their group; Blaise, Luna, Cho, Michael. All had a similar expression on their faces. He knew they were doing a similar internal reckoning. In this situation what was most important suddenly seemed very simple and obvious.

He remembered Lupin, looking him in the eye, months ago, that Christmas Eve at Spinner’s End. He could hear his voice. _“I can tell you’re no coward, Draco.”_ Well, here was the chance to prove himself at last.

As they approached the wall Draco saw the Hogwarts statues and suites of armor, magically brought to life and standing guard around the wall. Snape slowed his stride and hung back until he was walking beside Draco.

“How’s Lupin?” Draco asked, under his breath.

“He’s all right,” said Snape. “He’s coming here, to fight.”

“Is he…...can he do that?”

“He’s determined. I can’t talk him out of it. And…..we could use his wand.”

“Oh,”

“The battle is going to be close, and he’s a seasoned fighter with the Order.” Snape paused. “Draco…..:”

“Yes?”

“Come here a minute.”

Snape made him hang back from the others, then put his hands on Draco’s shoulder and muttered a spell in a strange language Draco did not recognize.

 _“Tarian rhag niwed_  
_Gwaed ac asgwrn_  
_Meddwl ac ysbryd_  
_Ddaear ac carreg.”_

Draco felt a strange tingle and pop in his bones as the magic entered him. He felt lighter suddenly, more focussed.

“What _was_ that?” he breathed.

“Lupin’s battle spell,” Sev replied. “Its Celtic. It conveys strength to the warrior.”

Draco shook his head and looked around. His senses felt sharpened, his vision clearer. He took a deep breath and felt his heartbeat slowing down in his chest.

Suddenly, the ground shook. A blast of white and purple sparks hit the wall in front of them. Red and green spells erupted from the trees behind the the wall. Snape took out his wand and started to return the fire.

“Good luck in the coming battle, Draco,” he said, between curses. “Be careful.”

Draco took a deep breath, reached for his own wand, and started to fight. The Celtic magic was in him, making him feel strong and focused.

Tonks was at the head of their group, fortifying the enchantments that strengthened the wall, firing stunning spells, directing the others where to go. Draco saw the green killing curse the second before it hit her, full in the chest. She stood still, just for a moment and then her eyes went blank and she toppled and fell to the ground. A moment later a loud explosion rent the air, and the wall in front of them was shattered in a blast of white and purple, throwing Draco backward onto the ground.

**********

Aunt Pepper and Remus apparated to the woods outside of Hogwarts and made their way cautiously towards the castle. As they got closer they started to hear the sounds of fighting - shouts, screams, explosions. The earth shook, as if vibrating under the footsteps of giants. They saw light flashing through the trees, red and green, purple and white. The battle was clearly underway. They heard a dry scuttling sound and a giant spider scurried past them. Luckily it seemed intent on getting into the castle and did not notice them. A stray curse rebounded among the trees and missed Remus’ head by inches, exploding in a bush behind him and setting it on fire.

They climbed through a breach in the castle wall - rough stones were tumbled about, as if the wall had been blown apart by a powerful spell. Pepper scrambled over the broken stones with surprising agility - Remus was reminded vividly of the goats she cared for. Then they were in it and there wasn’t time to think of anything, much, except dodging spells, casting curses, trying to see through the thick fog of smoke and dust that enveloped the castle grounds.

A masked Death Eater approached them through the fog. Remus cast a stunning spell but it missed its mark. He ducked as the dark hooded figure cast a green killing curse at him. “ _Arachne Corpus”_ he heard Pepper shout. Shimmering gossamer ropes sprang from her wand, encasing the Death Eater in a sticky web and bringing him to the ground.

Remus lost sight of Pepper quickly though he could hear her voice, off in the distance, casting more spiderweb spells. Then another masked figure in Death Eater robes was attacking him and Remus was duelling hard, fending off killing curses, trying desperately to immobilize his opponent. Just as he nearly had him, the ground shook as if the world was falling apart. They both looked up to see a giant, towering above them, and they parted and ran as the giant’s feet came crashing down, crushing the ground beneath them.

**********

Draco’s one thought was to get to Tonks, to help her somehow, even though he had seen the green light of _Avada Kedavra_ hit her. He had seen the blank look come over her eyes. He knew what that meant, of course he did, but he couldn’t help hoping somehow, childishly that he hadn’t seen what he knew he had seen, that it somehow could still be all right. His eyes were hot with sudden tears and Death Eaters were coming through the break that had been blasted in the wall. He watched as an oversized suit of armor hit one of the robed figures with his mace, with a smack so loud it reverberated through the grounds, as the masked figure fell. Seconds later, the suit of armor was blasted apart in a shower of orange sparks, and lay in pieces on the ground.

Draco hauled himself up, wiped his eyes furiously with the back of his hand and started to make his way over to where Tonks had fallen, but his path was blocked by the rush of oncoming Death Eaters and before he quite realized what was happening he was duelling two at once. They were shooting to kill. Draco himself was casting stunning spells at a furious rate. He saw one hit its mark and the large man fell to the ground with a thunk. All around him he saw the others dueling. Luna leapt out of the way of a green killing curse, and continued to fight fiercely. Michael Corner was down -whether dead or stunned Draco couldn’t tell. The air was filling with smoke. He caught sight of Blaise battling furiously, looking somehow graceful in the mist and the smoke, as though he were dancing rather than fighting for his life. He could hear Slughorn’s wheezing breath as he cast spell after spell, but he could no longer see him, and he had no idea where Snape had got to. Explosions rent the air, the ground shook ominously. Gradually he was forced away from the others, still duelling hotly until at last, he ducked behind a wall, cast one final stunner, and saw his opponent fall.

He stood there in the relative shelter of the wall to catch his breath while the battle raged around him. The great lawn was in complete chaos. The statues and suites of armor were swinging maces and thrusting spears, giant spiders were scuttling around the lawn, Death Eaters and students were dueling hotly, casting so many spells and curses that they lit up the sky. Then Draco saw something that filled him with true horror. He watched as, through a breach in the wall came a familiar figure - his father. Draco knew him at once, though he was hooded and masked. Behind him came wave after wave of the strangest fighters Draco had ever seen. They walked with a shuffling gait, heads down, eyes blank. Their wispy grey hair blew around their heads. They wore no armor of any kind , but were dressed in uniforms consisting of brown tunics with the Dark Mark stamped on them in some kind of luminescent ink, glowing weirdly in the smoky darkness. And as the defenders of Hogwarts started to attack, Draco saw that ordinary spells would not work on them. He saw red stunning spells bounce off of them with no visible effect at all. Then came the green killing curses and of course these did not work either. The killing curse would not work on these strangest of soldiers. These soldiers were inferi. They were already dead.

As the inferi came onto the lawn and spread out Draco saw their mode of attack. They killed by strangulation, their cold hands unyielding, squeezing the breath out of their victims then tossing them aside - lifeless hulks. Draco watched one girl he did not know strangled in this manner, and then a boy he knew vaguely as a younger Gryffindor - he was too young to join the battle - he must have snuck back in. Before the inferus could completely choke the life out of its victim Draco saw an old witch - she looked like a little granny - emerge out of the smoke of the battlefield. Sticky ropes sprang from her wand and wrapped around the inferus, pinning back his arms. He loosed his hold on the boy who fell gasping to the ground.

“Bind them!” the witch yelled to Draco, who ran from his hiding place to help her. “ _Arachne corpus !”_ she shouted. “It's the only way to stop them!” She turned around and, shouting the spell, bound another inferus in sticky, shimmering ropes. The creature stood, tied so tight he could not move at all, his face completely expressionless. Draco imitated her words and actions and was pleased to see sticky gossamer ropes coming out of his wand as well. He bound three inferi in a row, barely pausing for breath. Then through the haze of smoke he saw Snape and Slughorn working together on a clearly complex piece of magic. Their faces were tight with concentration. All of a sudden a swamp of sticky blue goo opened in front of where the inferi were still pouring in, entrapping them so they could not move at all. Snape then turned, and without pause started casting binding spells on the inferi that had avoided his gooey swamp.

**********

Dudley, up in the Astronomy Tower, thought that the battle was going pretty well. He and Neville had made things up easily after their scuffle over Mr. Sev. From the top of the Astronomy Tower they had an overview of the surrounding battlefield. At first it was almost like watching a video game. Dudley had felt strangely removed from the action down below. He saw the red and green spells, ricocheting through the forest, lighting up the trees, shooting over the walls into the grounds. He watched the walls blasted with showers of white and purple sparks, the huge hulking forms of the giants approaching through the trees. He could see Draco and Mr Sev, Tonks and Blaise and some other people he didn’t know, moving in a cautious group amid the flying curses toward the west wall. Then it seemed as if everything exploded at once. He watched the perimeter walls blasted apart, the dark robed death eaters moving onto the grounds, the statues and suits of armor rallying to attack them. He saw the dueling start, hot battles with spells flying through the air. He heard the shouts of curses, the screams of the injured. He felt the tower shake as the walls exploded, as the giants came stomping onto the grounds, scattering the terrified fighters lest they be crushed beneath their feet. He lost track of Draco and Mr. Sev and the rest in the smoke and the dust that was suddenly everywhere, reflecting the light of hundreds of spells and curses in a weird glowing mist. And then he got busy, throwing down snargaluff pods, throwing down venomous tentacula plants, trying to aim to do the maximum damage to the enemies down below, trying not to hit the ones that were on their side.

The Death Eaters started sending up curses, trying to stop the onslaught of toxic plant materials from above. Neville and Professor Sprout got out their wands and started returning the fire, sending down red stunners whenever they could get a clear shot through the thickly swirling smoke. Dudley tried not to look for Draco. He thought he caught sight of his white blond head once, through the smoke, but it was impossible to be sure. It didn’t matter he told himself sternly. They were here to do a job, that was all. They would come through or they wouldn’t. Looking out for Draco was just going to distract him from the fight.

He lost himself in the rhythm of the work, bend, aim, throw. The snargaluff pods were fairly easy to aim, but the venomous tentacula plants writhed and squirmed and clung - they didn’t really fancy being lobbed into space at some Death Eater down below. Spells and curses whizzed around him, he dodged them as best he could. A green killing curse hit the stonework behind his head, shattering it to pieces and filling the air with choking dust. Another hit a stone gargoyle that leered out onto the courtyard below, shearing it off and sending it spinning to the ground, where it shattered in an explosion of powdered stone.

Then a green killing curse came flying into the tower right beside Professor Sprout’s head, hitting the wall behind her with such force that she was thrown to the ground. It wasn’t a direct hit, but she lay there, eyes closed, with a huge gash in her head. She was breathing, but barely.

“Professor!” Neville screamed, kneeling beside her.

“Carry on lad,” she said, opening her eyes and smiling at him weakly. “I’m all right. Just.....injured. You always were my favorite. Go ahead and get those bastards for me!’’ Her eyes rolled back in her head and she lay still upon the shattered stonework.

Then the tower shook as another curse hit it and they were back to the battle again, leaving Professor Sprout in the relative shelter of a ledge below the wall where hopefully she would come to no further harm.

Dudley looked down and saw Mr. Moony in the middle of the courtyard below, battling a giant spider, using hot fire from his wand to fend it off. The spider reared and pivoted, flailing its many legs, clicking its pincers menacingly. The ominous sound carried up the tower, mechanical and chilling. There was another person battling the spider, a little old witch that Dudley had never seen before. She was casting silvery ropes out of her wand that were winding round and round the giant spider, binding it up.

And then Dudley saw Draco. He was battling a large man in Death Eater robes, but the mask had come off and Dudley recognized him. It was Thorfinn Rowle, the man who had come to the skinhead rallies, who had been Voldemort’s chief contact with the movement. Draco was battling him fast and furious, casting spells, dodging killing curses, but Dudley could see at once that he was losing. Rowle was backing him into a corner. Draco’s spells were missing their mark. He was casting wildly, too harried to get proper aim.

Dudley acted completely on instinct, without thinking at all. He grabbed Professor Sprout's wand, from where she lay unconscious beside the wall, and took aim. He felt a tingle in his fingers, which he ignored. _“Stupefy!_ ” he yelled, as he had seen Neville and Professor Sprout do, and the red stunner left the wand, straight and true, and hit Rowle square in the back. Dudley watched the large man hit the ground like a felled tree, and Draco was looking up at him with an expression of amazement on his smoke blackened face.

Before Dudley had time to register what had just happened, the tower was suddenly blasted with a powerful curse, so powerful that the stone floor beneath his feet rumbled and heaved. Dudley was thrown over the low wall and catapulted into the air. _This is what it is like to know you are going to die,_  he thought, but before he had time to be scared, he felt his fall slowed. It was as if an invisible parachute above him had been magically activated or as if the air had turned the consistency of treacle and he saw Mr. Moony below him, wafting him gently down to earth with his wand.

The minute his feet hit the ground Draco came running across the courtyard at full tilt. He slammed into Dudley and enveloped him in a hug that took his breath away.

“You…..fucking…….saved my arse,” Draco laughed breathlessly.

“Damn right I did,” Dudley laughed back. Then he stopped laughing and looked at the wand he still held in his hand. “I made it work,” he said with wonder.

“Dudley,” said Mr. Moony, coming up beside him. “You’re a wizard.”

“No I’m not,” Dudley laughed again. “It was the wand, not me. I’m Muggle.”

“Not exactly,” said Mr. Moony. “Muggles can’t cast stunning spells.”

“I….. I just needed to get that bloke off of Draco. I wasn’t even thinking. I just.....acted.”

“That’s when magic usually shows itself,” said Mr. Moony, smiling at him.

“I….I’m not a wizard,” said Dudley. “Harry’s the wizard.”

“Mmm… we’ll see,” said Mr. Moony thoughtfully. “Hang on to that wand in the meantime. It may come in handy. Are you injured?”

“Nah,” said Dudley with a grin. “I’m good.”

He turned to Draco “Have you seen Sev?”

“He’s over by the west wall, making swamps of goo to snare inferi.”

“Good man!” said Mr. Moony. “Let's go find him, then.”

 


	46. Reprieve

The corpse like smell of the inferi made Sev sick. The smoke and the rumble of explosions that shook the ground disoriented him. His heart was clenched with worry over his loved ones that he knew were out in the battle, in harm’s way, but he forced himself to concentrate and carry on. Every time he turned around there were new breaches in the wall, new places for the inferi to pour in, and then the arachnids came, giant spiders with their clicking jaws, too big to be managed by ordinary spells.

The swamp charm was fairly effective if he could make it to the holes in the wall before the invaders. He was working with Horace - their magic blended together well. Behind him he was vaguely aware of Bill Weasley, leading a group of Gryffindors in an effort to stun a giant.

“In three,” came Bill’s voice, resonating over the sounds of the battle. “One, two, three!” A chorus of voices shouted. _“Stupefy!”_ , and for a moment the smoke around him was fiery red, and the world shook and groaned and reverberated as the giant hit the ground with an enormous thud.

“Over here,” Sev heard Bill’s voice, calm and insistent. “There’s another one. Down by the north wall. I can see him from here. Let’s go!”

Sev kept working, making swamps, plugging holes, binding inferi. This was work he was good at - slow and methodical. It wasn’t like fighting a war at all. It was more like mixing a complex potion. Don’t let any steps get missed, don’t let any crucial detail get overlooked. Horace was at his side, wheezing away tirelessly, powerfully magical. They were a good team. _If I die,_ thought Sev, _I will at least have done my part, and no one can say otherwise._

He felt the cold first. It caught him unaware, he was so focussed on what he was doing, and then, before he realized what was happening they were gliding toward him - dementors, their harsh raspy breathing and the horrible, bone chilling cold, sickeningly familiar. It happened so fast, Sev had no time to steel himself, and then he knew that he would never be able to keep them safe, all of them, out there, somewhere, in the battle, among the smoke and the curses, danger everywhere, and he thought of Remus. Where was he? It filled Sev with despair that he didn’t know. He needed a patronus - a patronus to repel the cold, the darkness that was catching him like a whirlpool and drawing him down.

 _“Expecto Patronum,”_ he whispered. A thin wispy mist came from his wand, pitifully ineffectual. Beside him, he heard Horace wheezing out a spell, his voice weak and trembling, and from his wand came a pale silver mist.

 _“Think something happy_ ,” Sev commanded himself grimly. He tried to think of Oakley, of the joy he felt at his tiny perfection, but his thoughts immediately turned to how he would miss it all, how he wouldn’t be there to see - the first smile, the first steps, the first words, the first date, and he hadn’t even realized that he was looking forward to all that until just now, and now it was too late. He would never get to see it, because the great dark being that was gliding closer and closer to him was going to end it all, right here, right now. It was going to surround him with its evil, was going to put its foul mouth on his and, in that great parody of a kiss, fill his soul with darkness. It wasn’t really any different than it had ever been. His whole life had been given over to evil and now, now when something good was finally happening, it was going to all be over. The rasping breath of the dementor was louder now, right beside him. The cold was almost unbearable.

“ _I really loved you,_ ” Sev thought,with profound regret, seeing Remus before him. He felt a scaly hand on his forehead, pulling it back to deliver the kiss, and then all he could see was Albus, so tired, so done in, his lined face illuminated with the green light of Sev’s own killing spell.

Then the dementor paused, and through the fog of despair that was freezing his brain, Sev sensed it's hesitation. The cold was receding, the evil creature dropped him and started moving away. There was a silvery light and Sev was miraculously, beautifully, warm. There were silvery patronuses circling him, a panther came up to him and licked him, right in the face and it filled Sev’s heart with such joy that he raised his own wand and a silver phoenix joined the shimmering panther, and the dragon and the hippopotamus that were circling him, surrounding him with warm protective light and then Remus was there, and his arms were around him. Draco and Dudley came running up, breathless, brandishing wands, and covered in white dust as if they’d been in an explosion.

“All right?” breathed Remus, holding onto him.

Sev shook himself and nodded. He _was_ all right, though it had been a near thing. “Yeah,” he said, looking around, feeling dazed. Why was Dudley holding a wand? “You?”

“Fine,” said Remus.

“Whose…...patronus is that?” asked Sev looking at the dragon and the hippo who were frolicking together in a manner that was more than a little bit suggestive.

“Dudley’s,” said Remus, cracking a smile through his smoke blackened face.

“Dudley’s?” asked Sev, confused. “He’s Muggle.”

“Not as Muggle as we thought, apparently.”

“But he’s……”

“He just cast a stunner from the top of the Astronomy Tower and knocked out Thorfinn Rowle.”

“He did what now?” Sev shook his head to clear it.

“Probably saved Draco’s life in the bargain,” said Remus. “I saw it with my own eyes.” Sev and Remus watched as the two patronuses gamboled back and returned to the wands that Dudley and Draco were holding aloft.

While Sev watched this scene with astonishment, trying to process this new information, the grounds were suddenly filled with Voldemort’s voice, magically magnified. It sent a chill right to the core of him.

“ _You have fought valiantly,”_ said the weird, disembodied voice. Sev felt Remus grip onto him more tightly as it reverberated through the suddenly silent grounds. _”Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured._

_“I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recomences. This time I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me._

_“One hour_.”

The fighting had stopped with the first sound of that voice. They watched silently as Voldemort’s forces picked up and left - Death Eaters, giants, arachnids, inferi, all moving through the holes in the wall as one body and disappearing into the forest.

It was over. The explosions, the feet of giants, the red and green light filling the grounds, all was gone. Things were eerily quiet. Through the smoke and the fog Sev saw figures rising cautiously, limping back to the castle, helping the wounded, carrying the dead. Horace who was lying on the ground beside Sev, picked himself up like an elephant, snorted and shook and headed back to the castle in a kind of daze.

“Dora,” Sev said, remembering. “She fell, over there.” He pointed to the breach in the west wall. The inferi were still stuck in the sticky swamp of Sev’s creation, struggling silently and weirdly distressed, unable to free themselves from the lake of goo and return to their master.

They found Dora’s body, half buried beneath a pile of rubble. They heaved the heavy stones off her and pulled her from the debris.

Remus’ eyes filled with tears. “I’ve known her since she was a little girl,” he said sadly. “Andromeda used to have us round for dinner and she was always there, with her funny hair, always a different color. I don’t think there was a single time I had dinner there when she didn’t spill her juice or upset the gravy boat. Sirius adored her. She made him look calm, by comparison.”

Nymphadora Tonks lay quiet and unmoving, peaceful in death.

“She was good to us,” Draco managed to say, his throat tight.

“Andromeda is going to be devastated,” said Sev.

Remus shuddered. “Let’s get her back to the castle,” he said.

“I want to help,” said Dudley. There were wet tracks in the dust on his face.

He and Draco carried the body between them. Tonks was slender and didn’t weigh much. When they got to the the broken steps of the front entrance Dudley paused. “We should check on Professor Sprout and Neville,” he said. “They were in the Astronomy Tower when it fell.”

Remus looked over at him and nodded. “Good thinking,” he said. “We’ll bring her in. _Locomotor Corpus,_ ” he said with a wave of his wand, and Tonks’ body floated before them. He started wafting her up the ruined steps.

“C’mon,” said Dudley to Draco and the two of them headed across the now eerily silent grounds to the Astronomy Tower.

**********  
Draco and Dudley found Professor Sprout and Neville among the rubble of the destroyed tower. Neville, battered and bruised and coated in white dust, was struggling to help Professor Sprout up. She was awake but only just, moaning and mumbling incoherently. She was bleeding heavily from the gash in her head and her arm was at a funny angle. Every time she tried to move it she cried out in pain.

Draco didn’t dare try to mend her broken arm, but he conjured a splint and lashed it into place with his wand, as Neville and Dudley looked on. He took off his red and yellow scarf and tied it around her head to control the bleeding. They hauled Professor Sprout to her feet and made their way slowly, painfully, back to the castle.

As they approached the entrance, Draco heard his name, softly whispered, from the shadow beside the stone steps. It was a voice he recognized instantly.

“Can you manage?” he asked, Neville, who was leaning heavily on him as they walked.

“Yeah - I’m okay.” Neville shook himself. He was dazed, but he was able to stand and walk without assistance.

Dudley who was half carrying Professor Sprout looked over at Draco quizzically.

“Go on in,” Draco said to him. “I’ll catch you up.”

“You sure?” asked Dudley eyeballing the man lurking in the shadows doubtfully.

“Yeah,” said Draco. “Go ahead. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Dudley must have figured out who it was in the darkness beside the steps because he shrugged. “Be careful, yeah?” he said, and headed into the castle with Neville and Professor Sprout.

Draco slipped into the shadow of the castle beside the man, who promptly cast a concealment charm over the two of them.

“Hello, Father,” Draco said.

“Draco,” Lucius Malfoy whispered hoarsely.

“Won’t _he_ be expecting you?” Draco asked looking at his father. He seemed better than the last time Draco had seen him, less thin and drawn, more sure of himself. It came through somehow even though his robes were covered with grey dust, his face blackened with smoke. His manner had regained some of its old arrogance.

“Yes, actually,” said Lucius grimly “I only have a few moments. Draco, come back with me.”

“Why would I do that Father?”

“Things have….changed, Draco. We’re back in his favor. With Snape gone, well, it’s been good for us. I’m second lieutenant now, right after Bellatrix. I…..I think He’s ready to forgive you.”

“Is he now?” said Draco, dryly.

“I do believe He is.”

“You believe?”

“Yes, I do.”

“He was ready to kill me, before.”

“I…….know that. But we’re on the verge of victory. A new world order. A world where wizards will rule at last. You're a Malfoy! Your rightful place is with us! So many opportunities are going to open up for you, Draco. If He forgives you the future will be so bright!”

“If,” said Draco.

“I think He will. He has been showing our family a great deal of favor. I can explain your behavior. Adolescent rebellion, a fight with me and your mother, youthful folly. If you show proper contrition, I am sure He will show you mercy, even…...approbation. He always liked you, when you were a boy. Don’t you remember?

“Yeah,” said Draco quietly. “I do.”

If Lucius noticed the bitterness in Draco’s voice he gave no sign of it.

“Your blood is the most pure! Your lineage is impeccable! If you come back with me now, beg his forgiveness, fight bravely when the battle begins again…...great things could be in store for you.”

Draco turned his head away. “How’s Mother?” he asked.

“She’s…..she misses you Draco. She’s worried about you. She would be so glad to have you back with us,” and for the first time, a note of pleading crept into Lucius’ arrogant manor. “Your rightful place is with your family, with others of your station, not with… with Potter and his band of Mudbloods and half breeds and blood traitors.”

"Is it?" said Draco. "Are you sure, father?" Draco thought of Dudley, his innocence and bravery. He thought of Snape casting the protective Celtic magick into him, and of Tonks, lying there dead among the rubble, staring up at nothing. "Or is it perhaps, with the Order of the Phoenix?"

"What are you saying Draco?"

“I’ve been working for the Order for months, Father."

Lucius just looked at him in horror.

"Snape came and got me out," Draco said. "Snape saw that I needed to get away, or I’d be killed. Snape convinced me to leave, and found me a safe place to stay. Where was your concern for my future then Father, when I was about to be sacrificed to the Great Greasy Lord of Darkness?”

“Draco…….my son.”

“Why did you do it Father?”

“Do…. what?” Lucius asked. He had gone pale. He looked stricken by his son’s outburst of anger.

“Give me over, our whole family over, to that psychopathic killer? You let him terrify me, humiliate me! You would have let him kill me! You never stood up for me! Not once! I’m your son! What were you thinking?”

“He is…..the Dark Lord. I live to serve him.”

“Yeah, well I don’t,” said Draco shortly.

“Draco…..it’s not too late!”

“It is for me,” said Draco. “You’re my father. You were supposed to protect me from evil, not hand me over to it, not…….sacrifice me to it.”

“He is my Lord!”

"Do you even hear yourself?" asked Draco, softly.

Lucius just stared at him.

“Goodbye Father,” said Draco. He didn’t want to duel his father, didn’t want it to come to that. “Go back to your master. He’s waiting for you. Tell Mother I love her. Tell Mother...I didn’t run away because I was afraid. Tell her I ran away because I hate That Bastard with all my heart, and I left to fight him.” He turned and started walking away.

“Draco!” cried Lucius, his voice breaking. The pain in that voice was terrible, but Draco did not turn back. He left his father, in the shadow of the castle. He climbed the cracked and bloodstained stone steps and walked through the splintered front door and into the entrance hall. His feet crunched over the rubble of scattered emeralds and broken chunks of plaster as he made his way into the Great Hall. There he found Dudley, standing with a group of the dazed wounded. Dudley took one look at him and flung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close. Draco didn’t cry, not then, but he buried himself in the warmth and solidity of Dudley’s body and he let Dudley hold him until he stopped shaking and his heart stopped hammering in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Voldy's words are lifted directly from cannon.


	47. The Resurrection Stone

In the great hall, Nymphadora Tonks lay dead, her hair turned bubble gum pink, a bemused smile on her face, as if death had caught her unawares. Fred Weasley lay dead, surrounded by the tight knot of his grieving family. Colin Creevey lay dead. Luna sat beside him, holding his hand, talking to him softly, tears running down her face.

Remus had come through relatively unscathed but Sev was dripping blood from a nasty gash on his head. His brain was foggy and his ears were ringing as if he had a mild concussion. Remus mended his laceration with a quick spell and made him go sit down and drink a healing potion. Then he climbed up onto the raised platform where Poppy was dealing with the wounded and set to work.

Remus was reasonably skilled at basic healing, and it was better, much better, to have something to do than to think about the dead who lay stony and unmoving on the floor of the Great Hall. He was happy to distract himself with the seemingly endless line of people with minor injuries that needed attention. But as the alloted hour of reprieve wore on he grew increasingly anxious about Harry. He looked up frequently and cast his eyes about the Great Hall, searching for Harry’s shock of dark hair, the glint of his glasses. Ron and Hermione were there, clustered with the tight group of mourners around the dead, but where was Harry? He wouldn’t have turned himself in, he couldn’t have. At last Remus felt a breath of movement behind him, and when he turned to look no one was there. Then he heard Harry’s voice, a hoarse whisper from under the invisibility cloak.“Can I talk to you?”

“Yes, of course,” Remus murmured trying not to move his lips. He finished mending the cut on Hannah Abbott's leg and found her a healing potion. Then he led the invisible Harry down from the platform and across the Great Hall.

“Snape too,” he heard Harry whisper behind him, so Remus paused at the Slytherin table where Sev sat with his head in his hands, and touched his shoulder lightly. “Come with me,” he said softly, and Sev rose and followed.

***********

They went to Sev’s old chambers - the door still opened at his touch, though it had been weeks and weeks since he had been there. The old protections he had placed on these rooms apparently still held. Sev sat in the armchair by the cold grate and looked about the comfortable, familiar parlour, while Remus locked the door and cast a silencing charm.

“I have to go to him,” said Harry at once. “I can’t let the fighting start up again.”

“Harry….” began Remus, but Harry held up a hand and Remus fell silent.

“I have a plan,” he said. “We got Hufflepuff’s cup at Gringotts and Ron and Hermione destroyed it with a basilisk fang. And look.” Harry drew an object from under his jacket. A silver diadem.

Sev started forward, and stared at it. “The lost diadem.…” Remus breathed.

“Yeah, and the last horcrux,” said Harry. “Except for the snake and...and me,” he added.

“Are you sure it’s a Horcrux?” Sev asked hoarsely.

“Feel it,” said Harry, and handed it to him.

Sev took the fragile object. It was tarnished, and strangely heavy, considering its lacy, filigreed appearance. He turned it over and saw the delicate writing etched into the headband. _Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure._ He stared at it in wonder. Countless generations had searched for this lost object. Then he felt the evil pulsing within it, and he almost dropped it.

Remus looked over at him with concern. He knew he had blanched. He thought he might vomit. He handed the diadem to Remus without a word, and watched as his face turned from wonder to revulsion. Voldemort had taken this priceless treasure, and corrupted it beyond repair. Sev had a desire to get up and wash his hands.

“We have to destroy it,” Remus said, and they all watched as the diadem shuddered in his hands at his words. “The sword, Harry, the sword of Gryffindor. Where is it?”

“Gone,” said Harry sadly. “Griphook made off with it at Gringotts.”

“You still have the Basilisk fang?” asked Sev sharply.

“Ron has it,” said Harry. “Here’s the thing though. If You Know Who gets the diadem, and tries to put it on his head, well, don’t you think it would be like the hairy heart? Don’t you think the horcrux would….turn against him?”

“The soul, once cleaved, cannot be reunited,” Remus murmurred.

“Exactly,” said Harry. “I think it would help finish him off.”

“It’s taking a risk,” said Sev. “A rather large risk if it doesn’t work. Voldemort could take off with the diadem and we may never get it back.”

“I wish we had the sword,” said Remus fervently.

“Time is running short,” said Sev, looking at the clock on the mantel. “Your hour is almost up.”

“I know,” said Harry. “Come with me, into the forest. I don’t want Ron and Hermione to know - they’ll just try to stop me. I know the joining spell. If we can get the snake, if the diadem is destroyed when it reunites with Voldemort, well, maybe, maybe we can finish it at last. And if it doesn’t work,” Harry added. “You’ll just have to let him do it.”

“Do what?” asked Remus sharply.

“Kill me,” replied Harry quietly. “Dumbledore’s original plan.”

“Harry, no,” said Remus. “I can’t - I won’t let you die.”

“If the joining spell works I won’t have to,” said Harry, with grim determination on his face. “But I need you to swear, both of you, that if Reb Eleazar's spell fails, you won’t stand in the way of what we all know I have to do.” He was pale, but he looked determined. His green eyes - just like Lily’s eyes - were blazing and Sev realized, all at once, that he was no longer a boy, but a young man.

Sev looked over at Remus. His face was deathly white.

“Harry’s right,” Sev said.

Remus breathed in sharply and looked over at Sev. Sev knew he hated this. Sev also hated it. But he didn’t see any other way.

“Time’s running out,” Sev said gently.

Remus looked at the ground. “I swear,” he murmurred, “Not to stand in your way, if all else fails.”

“Me too,” said Sev grimly. “Pray that the joining spell works. Let’s go.”

**********

The grounds felt silent, haunted, as though all life had ceased there years ago. The smoke and dust had blown away on the spring breeze, the stars shone in the velvety sky and the leaves on the trees rustled softly.

At the edge of the forest, Harry paused. He reached into a pouch around his neck, and pulled out - an old snitch. It looked rather the worse for wear. The wings fluttered feebly. Sev looked at Remus in confusion.

Harry put the snitch to his lips. He whispered to it and it opened. Inside lay a dark stone, cracked down the middle, etched with a primitive hand. Remus drew a sharp breath as he realized what it was. Harry held the resurrection stone in his hand.

He looked over at Remus and Sev, a question on his face. “Do you mind?” he whispered. “I want them with me.”

“Go ahead,” said Remus hoarsely, and Sev just nodded.

Harry drew in a deep breath and turned the stone over in his hand.

And then they were there, shimmering presences among them, shining with a gossamer light, half ghost, half something else. Memory come to life. James, Lily and Sirius. Their silvery light filled the forest.

Remus looked at Sirius - he couldn’t help it, though Sirius seemed not to have noticed him. His attention seemed to be focussed completely on Harry. He looked young, and happy. The gaunt, haunted look he had never been able to shake after Azkaban was gone. His hair tumbled about his shoulders in dark luxuriant curls. His step had that jaunty spring that Remus had forgotten he used to have. _“He’s too young for me,”_ thought Remus, the words coming into his mind unbidden. Then Sirius looked over at Remus and for a moment, gazed at him as he never could have done in life, a look of pure love, unclouded by any hint of jealousy or possession. And then he turned away, his focus back on Harry, as it should be.

 _“I hope he’s happy there,”_ thought Remus fervently. _“I hope he’s found some beautiful boy, to keep him company, there in the beyond.”_ And he found Sev’s hand and squeezed it.

Lily was looking at Harry as if she would eat him up with her eyes. She looked young and radiantly beautiful - how young they had been when they died, barely older than Harry was now. Sev was staring at her, of course he was, but he squeezed back when Remus took his hand and clung to it as if it were some kind of lifeline. Lily looked over, at the two of them, holding hands, and gave them a brief, beautiful smile, filled with love. And together, the living and the dead, they all started walking through the forest, guarded by the shimmering spirits of Lily, James and Sirius as if they were surrounded by patronuses.

*************  
In the great hall Draco sat on the stone floor, his back against the wall, between Dudley and Blaise. His head was on Dudley’s shoulder, his eyes closed. He was so exhausted he actually fell asleep for a few minutes. Around him the low, unhappy chatter of the survivors buzzed. He had no idea what was going to happen next. He almost didn’t care. He just wanted to sit here, for as long as possible, with the warmth of Dudley beside him, and sleep.

He was wakened by a rough hand on his shoulder. Someone was shaking him, and his eyes gradually focussed on Ron Weaseley’s worried face. Behind Ron, Hermione and Neville loomed anxiously, and behind them, Draco saw Ginny and Luna.

“Malfoy,” Ron said roughly. “Wake up.”

“Whazzit?” said Draco sleepily.

“Have you seen Harry?”

Draco shook himself. The look of worry on Ron’s face was enough to alert him that something was actually wrong. “No,” he said. “Why would I? Isn’t he with you lot?”

“No,” said Hermione, her face tight with concern. “He isn’t. We haven’t seen him since the battle ended.”

“He went to meet the Dark Lord, didn’t he?” said Draco sharply.

“Looks like it," said Ron. “Neville saw him heading into the forest, with Lupin and Snape.”

“Lupin and Snape won’t let him turn himself in," said Draco. He didn’t know why he knew this but he did.

“He said he had something to do,” said Neville. “He said, kill the snake.”

“Nagini?” Draco said sharply.

Neville shrugged. “I guess.”

But Dudley was stirring and after a moment he got up, stretched and looked at the others around him. “C’mon,” he said, shaking his big frame and yawning enormously. “Let’s get going.”

“Where?” said Draco, looking at him.

“We’ve got to go after Harry,” Dudley said. “We’ve got to stop him before he turns himself in.”

“You don’t know that’s what he's going to do,” said Ron hotly.

“Course I do,” Dudley replied. “It'd be just like him. C’mon.” He pulled on his jacket and started walking towards the doors at the back of the hall.

“He would have told us,” said Hermione. “He wouldn’t have just gone off.”

Dudley stopped and turned around and looked at her. “Nah,” he said. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to know. He wouldn’t want to put you in danger. That’s how he is.” Then he looked right at Draco. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” said Draco, rising. “Yeah, I’m coming. Yo, dipshits,” he said, gesturing for the rest of them to follow him. “Let’s go save Potter from his own fool self.” He strode after Dudley, and the others followed in his wake.

“Kill the snake,” muttered Neville, under his breath, as he followed the rest out of the hall and into the cool dark night.


	48. The Joining Spell

The grounds were dark and completely still. Draco figured it was almost dawn, as their small group made their way down the broken front steps and across the great lawn. The entire world seemed to be holding its breath, waiting. Somewhere off in the distance a bird gave a cautious chirrup, and went silent.

They entered the Forbidden Forest, following along the path that Draco remembered vaguely, from his foray in here with Harry, Fang and Hagrid eons ago. The night of the dead unicorn. He wouldn’t have minded having Fang with them now. Draco was sure that beast knew these woods better than any human. The path was barely visible before them, faintly lit by the waning moon, which was setting through the trees, in the western sky. The woods were dead silent, and they strode as softly as they could, every footstep they made, every rustle of their clothing, felt like an intrusion.

Draco heard a soft sound up ahead - a snap - like someone stepping on a twig -and then a man in Death Eater robes stood in the path. “ _Avada Kedavra!”_ the masked man hissed softly, without pause, without hesitation. The green killing curse erupted from his wand and headed straight for Luna. Draco, acting on instinct, grabbed her arm and pulled her to the ground. The curse missed her head by inches, landing in the woods behind them in a shower of green sparks.

Before they could catch their breath, the forest around them exploded with curses and Draco realized that they had walked into a trap. At least ten Death Eaters emerged from behind the trees and their small band instantly found they were fighting for their lives.

Draco dodged behind a tree and started casting stunners as fast as he could. Neville dove into the bushes to avoid a curse that was aimed right at him and came up with his face covered in blood. He brandished his wand and kept on fighting. Hermione was backed against a large tree, duelling two Death Eaters at once. Draco took careful aim, and got one in the back with a body bind curse but he couldn’t get a clear shot at other one. Dudley, beside him, had Professor Sprout's wand and he was casting stunners with single minded focus wherever he could get a clear shot.

Suddenly a roar came from the dense thicket of woods behind them and the blinding white headlights of a very old and rusty blue car, covered with vines and leaves as if it were part of the forest itself, thundered into the fray. It hit two Death Eaters at once, tossing them into the air as if they were sheets of paper stirred by a strong breeze. The rest scattered and ran so they wouldn't get hit, as the car crashed around the woods, running them down with single minded fury, it's headlights making crazy shadows in the dark trees.

“It’s Dad’s car!” yelled Ron. “The Ford Anglia!” The car stopped in front of Ron as though it had been looking for him, and lowered it's front end in a kind of bow. It's four doors flew open. “Come on!” yelled Ron. “Get in!”

But before they could all pile into the decrepit looking vehicle the sky above them exploded with a loud shriek and the woods were filled with the sound of huge wings beating powerfully overhead. With a whooshing of feathers, Buckbeak landed in the middle of their little group, his beautiful stormy grey plumage lit up eerily in the harsh light of the Ford Anglia. He held a ragged object in his beak. He looked them over with solemn intensity, as if he were searching for someone, and when his gaze fell on Neville he stared right at him.

Neville wiped the blood from his face and looked Buckbeak in the eye, then bent one knee, and bowed. The hippogryph bowed back, never taking his beady eye off of Neville. With a gesture of his head he motioned for Neville to take the object that he carried in his talons.

It was the sorting hat. Neville stretched out his hands and took it. He reached inside and pulled out something long and silver, crusted with rubies. He held it aloft and the sword of Gryffindor glittered in the headlights of the Ford Anglia.

“Kill the snake!” Neville shouted. “Dumbledore’s Army!” Once again, Buckbeak bent his knee, in a gesture of invitation. Neville jammed the hat on his head and climbed onto the back of the giant creature. With an enormous whoosh of his wings that shook the leaves on the trees, the hippogryph took off gracefully with Neville clinging to his back. The little group clustered around the car watched him go in awe.

And then, while they were still watching Buckbeak and Neville flying away from them through the blue light of the coming dawn, the woods groaned and shook. “Hagger!” cried a hoarse voice, and Grawp came stumbling through the trees, nearly crushing them with his huge feet .“Hagger! Where…….Hagger?” They scattered in his wake, the ground shaking with the giant’s every step. Grawp didn't even appear to notice them. He was looking for Hagrid and he thundered past them with single minded determination, leaving the ground quaking behind him.

As Grawp's footsteps faded the woods around them seemed unnaturally silent. Another cautious twitter of a bird, and an answering call. The sky was lightning in the east.

There was an ominous clicking sound from behind Draco, and he turned and looked. A dark scuttling movement in the trees, still weirdly backlit by the headlights of the car. The woods were alive with cold yellow eyes. Many, many cold yellow eyes. The forest behind them was filled with giant spiders.

“Fuuuuck!” yelled Ron. He grabbed Ginny by the arm and fairly threw her into the front seat of the car. ”Go! Go !Go!” He dove into the driver's seat and the others jammed themselves pell mell into the vehicle. Draco grabbed Dudley’s hand and pulled him into the backseat. Luna’s elbow was in his eye and Blaise’s knee was jammed in his spleen.The doors slammed shut. With a squeal of tires the car went careening through the forest following Grawp’s giant tracks through the woods and leaving the spiders behind them.

***************

Harry led the way through the cool dark forest - he seemed to know where to go. He was pale - he looked more pale in the ghostly light that surrounded them all - but he seemed calm, almost too calm, as if everything was happening to someone else, someone far away. The path was velvety under their feet, strewn with old crumbled leaves from last autumn that gave off a sharp scent of mould and fresh earth as they walked silently on. Lily and James were on either side of Harry. Sirius was beside James, and Remus and Sev brought up the rear. They met no one for a long time.

At last they saw the orange light of a campfire flickering through the trees. As they approached Voldemort’s camp they found the trail was guarded by dementors who stood silently aside as they passed. Clearly they had been instructed to let Harry through. The three ghosts they traveled with acted as patronuses to them, and they did not feel the chill of the dementors, or the despair, though Sev clutched onto Remus’ hand more tightly as they walked by. The trees opened onto a clearing and there Voldemort stood, silent and unmoving, his eyes in the middle distance, as though lost in thought.

Old ragged spiderwebs clung from the trees. Voldemort was surrounded by his Death Eaters but they were silent, standing quietly in a half circle facing Harry and his protectors. Bellatrix was to his right, with Wormtail beside her. Sev noticed that Wormtail was still wearing the same foppish lavender tailcoat and tophat, now horribly stained and dirtied.The bandage around his stump of an arm was crusted with dried blood and dirt. Lucius Malfoy, to Voldemort’s left, gave Sev a look of unfettered hatred when he saw him. Nagini rotated, in a star spangled circle of magic, above Voldemort’s right shoulder, but she did not fail to notice Sev. She raised her head and hissed at him menacingly, as she always had. Fenrir Greyback stood off to the side. He bared his teeth at them as they approached. Several giants lurked silently in the trees.The inferi sat, motionless and expressionless, on the ground. Sev caught the scent of decay on them, and his stomach turned. 

From the back edge of the clearing came a deep bellow of sorrow. Hagrid was there, chained to a tree, and when he saw Harry he started shaking it violently. “Harry!” he cried in anguish. “No! What’re ye doin’? Don’ turn yerself in, Harry! Go back!”

“Silence, oaf!” screamed Voldemort brandishing his wand, and Hagrid fell silent, though he continued to look at Harry with heartbreak in his beetle black eyes.

“Harry Potter,” said Voldemort, steepling his too long, too white fingers. “You have come. I knew that you would come.”

“Hello Tom,” said Harry in a steady voice.

“But you have brought protectors,” said Voldemort lightly. “Your mudblood mother, your blood traitor father, and their…..friends. Were you too afraid to face me, little boy, without your parents?”

“No,” said Harry quietly. “No, Tom, I’m not afraid.” And Harry pulled out his wand and stepped out of the protective circle of blue white light, to face Voldemort alone, before any of them could stop him.

Quick as a snake, Voldemort also drew his wand. They stood facing each other, as if for a duel. “I know things, Tom,” said Harry. They were starting to circle each other. “Things you don’t know, things you never bothered to find out.”

“It’s love again, isn’t it?” spat out Voldemort. “Dumbledore’s favorite theory. Love is stronger than magic. I’ve heard it, little boy. He bored me with it for years. He tried to convince me, to divert me from my search for power, for strength, for immortality! Immortality, Potter! Eternal life! I am going to live forever! How does love get you that?” He gestured scornfully at the group of protectors standing and watching Harry. “Half of your mentors are already dead! And the others will be dead before the night is out. Whereas I…. I shall never die!” and he laughed, his high laugh, haughty and cold.

“Are you sure Tom?” Harry asked. His green eyes looked black in the flickering firelight, but they never left Voldemort’s glowering red ones.

“Yes, Potter, I am sure! I have guaranteed my immortality! Guaranteed it in ways lesser wizards would never dare!”

“What about this, then?” said Harry. He reached into his shirt and in a sure swift gesture, drew out the diadem.

Voldemort gasped, and his red eyes dulled for a moment, in fear, then burned even brighter, in anger. How well Sev could read the mood in those eyes, and he started forward for a moment, overwhelmed by his instinct to protect - but Remus grabbed him and held him back.

“Where….how…..did you find it?….How…...did you know?” Voldemort sputtered.

“The locket and the cup are destroyed,” said Harry calmly, fingering the Diadem, holding it up to admire the way it sparkled in the firelight. “So are the ring and the diary.” He tossed the diadem lightly into the air, and caught it. It reflected the red of the coals, so that the beautiful, delicate crown appeared to sparkle with rubies, or with blood.

”Pretty isn’t it?” Harry said. “It’s practically the only one left.”

“You lie,” Voldemort whispered. “You lie. They are hidden, no one could find them!”

“No Tom,” said Harry lightly, and Sev marveled at his calm. How did he stay so cool under the pure hate that was emanating from Voldemort’s glowing red eyes? “I’m not lying. I’ve hunted them, tracked them down, one by one - the locket in the cave, the cup at Gringotts, the Diadem - here at Hogwarts. Dumbledore found the ring and destroyed it last year before he died - and well, we all remember what happened to the diary.”

Voldemort looked at Harry with horror written in his face “How….how…. did you?”

“Dumbledore did it,” said Harry. “He figured out what you were up to ages ago, and he’s been hunting horcruxes ever since.”

Voldemort staggered, clutching his chest, and Sev was reminded of how frail, how ephemeral he really was. He looked over his shoulder wildly for a moment, to check on Nagini and reassure himself that she was still there. _If only he could get the Snake!_ Sev thought to himself, but he knew if he made a move against that evil reptile he would be killed instantly. Then Voldemort turned his gaze back to Harry and it was filled with rage like Sev had never seen there.

“I’ve got your number, Tom,” said Harry, still emanating that strange cool, that confidence, in the face of Voldemort’s hatred. “You thought you were going to live forever but we’ve been studying you - your flaws - your weaknesses. You’ve missed the point, Tom. Immortality is only worth something if you have a life worth living. And you, well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? You gave up anything that made life worthwhile a long time ago.”

Voldemort was staring at Harry but it was as if Harry’s words were washing right over him. He only had eyes for the diadem. He was staring at it with a wolfish hunger in his eyes, the pupils narrowed to black slits.

“Want it, do you?” said Harry, and he threw the lovely, delicate object into the air once again and caught it between his thumb and forefinger. Voldemort raised his wand to cast a spell, whether to accio the diadem to himself or to kill Harry, Sev could not tell. Sev raised his own wand, to strike, but before anyone moved Harry tossed the diadem, lightly, to Voldemort. It made an arc in the firelight, shimmering fiery red and silver. Every eye in the silent clearing was on it. It landed at Voldemort’s feet, and as if he could not help himself, Voldemort stooped to the ground and picked up the luminous, filigreed object and put it on his head.

The diadem glowed on Voldemort’s head, red hot. He gasped and put his hands to it and immediately snatched them away, and Sev saw the blisters on his long white fingers. _“It’s going to work,“_ Sev thought to himself, a sudden flame of hope burning in his chest. _“Harry was right! The soul once sundered, cannot be reunited.”_ But then Voldemort straightened, a triumphant grin on his skeletal face, and Sev’s heart fell. Voldemort seemed taller, somehow, his skin, always pale, was glowing with a luminescent light, and Sev could see the power, the magic, emanating from him. His skin seemed to be fading away, becoming translucent and glowing with a weird white light. Sev could see the structure of the bone beneath the transparent skin of his cheeks, until his his face was just a skull , a skull covered with a diaphanous layer of skin, with great red fiery eyes and a tongue that was a snake darting from his mouth as he laughed in triumph.

And then many things happened all at once. An arrow flew into the clearing and hit a tree with a twang. With a loud battle cry, the centaurs entered the camp, screaming in fury, kaleidoscope eyes twirling in their heads, shooting arrows at the Death Eaters with merciless precision. From the woods came the roar of an engine, the honking of a horn, loud and insistent and the firelit clearing was flooded with the harsh headlights of a car. The Ford Anglia, rusting and dented and covered with leaves crashed into the clearing and disgorged Ron, Hermione, Draco, Dudley, Luna, Blaise and Ginny. At the same time the woods outside the clearing erupted with curses and the remaining Hogwarts students and teachers and members of the Order of the Phoenix rushed in to attack the Death Eaters.

Lily, James and Sirius were gone, and Sev and Remus, freed from their protective circle, entered the fray. The battle had erupted, hot and fierce all around them. Molly Weasley was fighting Bellatrix and Remus was facing off with Fenrir Greyback. Aunt Pepper had taken on both of the Carrows and she seemed to be getting the better of them.Then the clearing shook with giant footsteps and with a cry of “Hagger!” Grawp emerged from the woods and started grappling with one of the giants, bellowing and crashing through the trees in an effort to get to his brother.

Sev found himself battling Wormtail, and he knew, at once that this was to the death. He had no qualms about casting the Avada Kedavra at this small and most hated of enemies, but Wormtail was dodging him, pressing him hard, backing him into the forest, and Sev’s curses missed their mark. He started to fear that Wormtail might get the best of him, and what an unfortunate end that would be, after all he had been through. Wormtail was breathing hard, his breath coming in wheezy gasps, his small eyes glowing in triumph. Sev cursed him again, but Wormtail dodged and the spell missed its mark. Then a red stunner came whizzing over Sev’s shoulder`and hit Wormtail square in the center of his forehead. The small man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he toppled and lay still. When Sev looked behind him, Dudley was there, wand in hand. Dudley gave him a grin and a thumb’s up and turned his attention back to the battle.

Now from the direction of the village, Sev heard the sound of many voices, raised in a fierce battle cry. The sky was getting light and as the sun came up over the hills it seemed half the village, as well as the parents of the students who had stayed to fight had entered the battle. From the castle came the house elves, led by Kreature, bearing carving knives and heavy saucepans. The clearing was filled with dueling wizards, centaurs shooting arrows and houselves who were doing a surprising amount of damage with their kitchen knives and saucepans.

And then from above them, came a great scream of fury and Buckbeak was in the air, flapping his enormous wings, talons curled. Neville Longbottom was astride him and in his hand he held the glittering sword of Gryffindor. He was wearing a battered old hat with a rip near its brim, like a mouth. “Death to the enemies of Hogwarts,” the sorting hat cried. Buckbeak flew straight for the magical cage that held Nagini and his talons ripped through the starry web of magic as if it were made of cobwebs. Nagini’s head came slithering up through the torn webbing of her magical cage and she pulled back, as if to strike, her evil yellow eyes glinting. She gave a fearsome hiss. Neville, still seated on Buckbeak’s back, raised the sword and screamed “Dumbledore’s Army!” and, in one well aimed swipe, neatly sliced off the head of the snake which sailed through the air, rotating over and over, in the clear light of the rising sun.

“Noooooo,” screamed Voldemort, as Nagini’s body hit the forest floor with a thunk. His scream of grief was a terrible thing to hear, and the fighting in the clearing suddenly ceased, every eye on Voldemort. “Nagini,” he moaned, and he picked up the headless body of the snake from where it still writhed on the ground. Sev noticed that his movements were growing jerky, as if the magic that held his bones together was falling apart. All at once he dropped Nagini and put his hands to his head where the diadem was starting to smoke. “Noooo,” he moaned again. He pulled at the Diadem, unable to get the burning crown off his head. It was stuck fast, and the red light it emanated lit up the bones of his fingers through his thin skin, like an x-ray.

Harry stood before him, his face blazing, and he started to recite a spell. The joining spell, Sev realized. Harry chanted the Hebrew words, his voice rising pure and clear in the early morning air.

 _“Ho at ma shenashvar letakoach._ _Ho leshevar lehayot shalom. Yashar hayah koach._ _Tikkun Olam.” *_

Voldemort stared at him in horror, unable to turn away. The crown was smoking more heavily now, the sharp smell of burning flesh filled the clearing. Harry reached into his robes right into his chest and drew out a large shimmering shard of glass, jagged and glinting in the red light of the rising sun - like blood. A shard of glass shaped like a lightening bolt, just like the scar on Harry's forehead. And just as he had with the diadem, Harry threw the broken fragment of glass, the piece of Voldemort’s soul that had been torn from him so long ago. This time it did not land on the ground, but found its mark, straight and true, making an arc through the clear morning light and homing right for Voldemort’s chest. It pierced him and went directly into his heart and with a terrible shriek, a shriek that rent the forest and reverberated among the trees Voldemort shuddered and fell.

Every single creature in the clearing watched in astonishment as Voldemort’s body, the body that wasn’t really a body at all, but was just skin and bones strung together with hate and magic crumbled to ash before their eyes. Voldemort's bones lay shining and white among the ashes, his skull grinning wickedly in death, the silver diadem, still on his head, leaking a dark substance, like blood.

Ron ran up to the body with a large yellow fang in his hand and stabbed at the diadem on Voldemort’s head. It shuddered and leaked more of the dark substance .

“Just wanted to be sure,” he said ruefully.

It was over. Sev was nearly brought to his knees with the relief of it. He watched as the Death Eaters ran and scattered into the woods, pursued by the centaurs and the house elves. He watched as Harry was mobbed by a joyful crowd. All the defenders of Hogwarts were surrounding him, trying to get in a hug, a handshake, a word of congratulations. Finally Hagrid who had been freed from his chains by Grawp, lifted Harry above the ecstatic crowd and put him on his shoulders.

Then Remus found Sev in the crowd and slammed into him in a tight hug, nearly lifting him off his feet. When they parted Remus was smiling up at him with tears of  joy in his eyes.

They stood there together and looked about the clearing. Ron and Hermione stood twined together in the midst of the chaos, kissing fiercely, lost in each other. Dudley, Draco and Blaise were doing a victory dance, arms around each others shoulders, weaving in and around the crowd. George Weasley stood at the edge of the clearing, looking lost, as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, until Bill came up to him and embraced his brother in tight hug. Aunt Pepper was standing with her arms around Augusta Longbottom, speaking with her intently as if she’d rediscovered a long lost friend. Ginny sat on a stump in the middle of everything and her eyes were shining and they never left Harry.

Hagrid, with Harry on his shoulders started moving back to the castle, with the joyful crowd streaming behind. Harry looked behind him, his face shining with happiness and relief, and he found Sev and Remus, standing there together. His eyes, so like Lily’s locked onto Sev’s just for a moment. “Thank you,” he mouthed, and then his attention was drawn back to the adoring crowd.

Sev looked at Remus. “You’re leaking,” he said.

Remus glanced down at the front of his robes which were, in fact, wet with milk.

“Fuck!” Remus said, under his breath. They looked at each other.

“Oakley,” they both said at once.

And then Sev couldn’t really help it. He took Remus in his arms and kissed him with tenderness and passion, like a lover, there in the middle of those woods that had exploded in a wild celebration of joy and relief. They kissed in the golden light of the clear spring morning, and Sev figured it really didn’t matter who saw them because whoever didn’t know about him and Remus already would find out soon enough. And the point, really was that they had survived, they had both survived somehow, against all odds, and they were going home, home to Oakley and Gavin and Amanda.

“Let’s go,” Sev whispered into Remus’ hair. He felt ready to claim the life he had forged for himself. The life they had forged together, him and Remus, a life of love, not hate, a life that Lily could look down on, and smile.

And together they slipped away from  the celebrating crowd and walked through the glorious morning woods, with the birds singing loudly in the trees, and started to make their way back to the island, where their family waited for them.

********

_*Let that which has been sundered by rejoined, let the broken thing be made whole. Righteousness is your strength. Let the world be healed._

 

 


	49. Christmas Again

There was a victory party in the Room of Requirement with booze supplied by Aberforth, food supplied by the house elves, and an assortment of Weasley’s Moste Magickal Fireworks that wheeled lazily through the crowd. Draco and Dudley got pretty well toasted, toasted enough that Draco found himself singing the Hogwarts anthem with his arms around Neville and Ron ( _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts)_ while Nearly Headless Nick conducted and Dudley sat in a corner making bubbles come out of Draco’s wand with a foolish grin on his face. Harry and Ginny had disappeared ages ago and Draco had no doubt that they were off somewhere, shagging each other’s brains out. Eventually, he had the good sense to drag Dudley away from the party and down to the Slytherin common room which was mercifully deserted.

“Wicked!” said Dudley appreciatively when he saw the low ceilinged, underground room. There were torches sputtering in sconces. Steel swords and old iron masks were hung on the walls, casting eerie shadows, as well as Slytherin flags with the silver snake magicked to undulate weirdly in the low sputtering light. A fire blazed in a huge stone fireplace and the whole room had an underwater feel, as if they were in the hold of a ship.

“C’mon,” said Draco pulling Dudley by the hand. “Let’s go to my room.”

“You have a room?” said Dudley.

“Yeah," said Draco. “My dorm. C’mon.”

They stumbled down the hall and into the familiar room. His old four poster was still there, spread with the green and silver comforter his mother had sent from home. He fell onto the bed, pulling Dudley down on top of him. There was a _Witch of the Month_ pin up at the end of the bed. He had jerked off to that photo countless times but it didn’t do much for him any more. _Because you’re really gay,_ went a voice in his head, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. He didn’t want to think about anything except this, right here and how good it felt. He’d fought his way through that horrible, terrifying battle to get to this and here, miraculously, it was. Dudley’s warm mouth on his, Dudley undoing his belt and pulling down his jeans, Dudley hoisting Draco's legs over his broad shoulders and going down on him and his lips were so warm and soft and full, and he knew, he knew how Draco liked it, how to lick and suck and pull, and…..

”I love you,” gasped Draco. It felt good to say it, it felt great, as if a dam of feeling was breaking inside of him. He’d been waiting to say it for so long and it was true, so true, the truest thing he’d ever known, and Dudley stopped blowing him and just looked at him, his whole face breaking into a smile.

“This is the part where you say you love me too,” said Draco. He felt his own face breaking into a stupid grin.

“You know I do,” said Dudley. “You’ve known for ages. It’s obvious.” This was true but Draco still wanted to hear him say it. Dudley hitched himself up until he was holding Draco and their foreheads were touching. They lay there, chest to chest, hip to hip.

“Say it again,” said Dudley, punching him lightly on the arm.

“I just did.”

“It feels good to hear it.”

“I love you,” said Draco. It felt great to say it again. He thought of all the times he hadn’t said it, had stopped himself from saying it.

“I love you too,” said Dudley, and started pulling off Draco's shirt. It felt great to hear it, too.

“We’re both alive,” said Draco with wonder, laying back and letting Dudley undress him. “We both survived it.”

“Yeah,” said Dudley grinning at him. “Let’s shag.”

And they didn’t talk any more after that. Draco pulled the curtains closed around them, and they worked each other out of their clothes, until they lay naked together. Their skin glowed weirdly green in the light filtering through the curtains, and they kissed and touched and held each other, breathing as one being, their bodies moving into a sure and certain rhythm, transporting them away.

***********

It was a foggy morning on the Cornish coast. Remus sat in the bow of the boat, watching Sev as he rowed steadily onwards through the thick mist. Gradually the island came into view. They must have been seen from the house, because as they got closer Remus could see Gavin and Amanda on the beach, jumping up and down with excitement, and Aunt Spider beside them with a bundle in her arms. When he saw Oakley, Remus felt a tug in his deep gut, a yearning to hold his child, and his breasts, which were heavy and full, started to tingle and ache.

The boat landed on the shingle with a crunch and Remus leapt out. Gav and Amanda had their arms around him and Aunt Spider handed Oakley to Remus with a worried look in her eye.

“Pepper?” she asked huskily. The gulls were cawing overhead and from somewhere on the cliff above them a goat bleated.

“She’s fine,” said Remus. “She’s a heroine. She stayed on to celebrate.”

“Chatting away with Augusta Longbottom,” Sev added, climbing out of the boat and pulling it onto the shore. Gavin ran to help him, but Amanda was looking at Remus with wide eyes.

“How’s Harry? How’re Draco and Dudley?” she asked anxiously.

“Fine, everyone’s fine” said Sev. “Voldemort is defeated. It’s over.”

“Yay!!” cried Gavin and he started doing a victory dance on the shore.

But Remus had eyes only for Oakley, who was snuffling into his chest hungrily, making tiny grunting sounds. Remus put his nose to Oakley’s downy head and inhaled his sweet baby smell, and the aching in his breasts got worse. He sat down, there on the shingle, and put the baby to the breast. Oakley opened his rosebud mouth wide, and latched on and then the world was all right again. Remus relaxed, as the baby nursed with enthusiasm. The sun broke through the fog, suffusing the air with a pale lemony glow. Sev charmed the empty boat to return to the cave to await Aunt Pepper, and they all settled onto the sand, while Remus nursed Oakley and Sev sat beside them, his arm firmly around Remus’ shoulders, Gavin in his lap, and told them the story of the great battle and the final defeat of Voldemort.

***********  
Sev and Remus had a few blissful days of peace on the island in the sea, drenched in sunshine, the salt scented breeze gently blowing, the children gathered around them. It was like a dream, and Sev was tempted to just stay there forever.

They badly needed supplies for Oakley, however, and Sev felt they really ought to buy some groceries lest they eat the two old ladies out of all their stores. So after a few days on the island Sev and Remus took Oakley and went on a shopping expedition.

Sev realized once they got into the store that he should have gone alone. They’d had a rough night with Oakley, who’d been up at midnight, then at 2:00, then at 4:00, then at 4:30, and then at 6:00. Remus was looking peaky, and Sev had thought it might do him some good to get out, but now he saw that it had been a mistake to bring him. He had Oakley in a baby carrier on the front of his chest and he looked miserable, pale and sweaty, with a line of anxiety etched into his forehead.

They filled their cart with diapers, wipes and groceries. They didn't know where anything was, and it took a long time. In the checkout line, which was infuriatingly long, Oakley started fussing, snuffling in a certain way that they both recognized as a prelude to full on wailing.

“Can’t you do something?” asked Sev with irritation. He was also tired from their sleepless night.

“What do you suggest?” asked Remus, nostrils flaring.

“I don’t know- nurse him or something!”

“Here?” said Remus, angrily. Oakley’s face scrunched up, his rosebud mouth opened and he started to cry. People in the line turned and looked at them with annoyance.

“Hush,” said Remus, patting the baby ineffectually, but his crying just grew louder, more piercing and frustrated.

“Not working," Sev muttered under his breath. He felt horribly self conscious, with all these Muggles staring at them, and when he looked at Remus he saw hot tears gathering in his eyes.

"Oh Merlin," said Sev.

"I'm hungry!" said Remus angrily. "And I'm hot! And I have to piss! And you could take him for a few minutes, you know!"

“I took him for two hours this morning so you could sleep!”

Remus just glared at him like he couldn’t believe what an arse he was being.

Sev stared back at the two of them completely confounded.

This was his family now.

What on earth was he going to do? He had no background, no experience, with all of this emotion! No reference point at all. He thought of his father - how he would have reacted to this situation, with angry words, or with blows. At least Sev had the sense not to be like that.

Oakley’s cries were growing louder. Sev felt his face grow warm. Up at the head of the line the cashier seemed to be having a problem with the register. The woman behind them tisked loudly.

Sev stood there feeling trapped and angry. Then he remembered  his promise to Remus. Their promise to each other. All he had to do was try. He took a deep breath and he knew what to do.

Sev put a hand under Remus’ chin and wiped a tear from his cheek. He took hold of their cart and guided them out of the check out line, steering it to an out of the way corner beside a display of flowers. Remus followed.

“Give him to me.”

“What?”

“Baby. Now.”

Remus handed over the fussy damp baby. Sev abandoned their overflowing cart and steered Remus to the grungy loo in the back of the store.

“In,” commanded Sev. “Piss. Wash your face. We’ll wait here.”

When Remus emerged, Sev led him to the cafe at the front of the store, and sat him down at a rickety table. Still holding Oakley, he went up to the counter and bought a tea and a croissant. “Eat,” commanded Sev. Short sentences were really all he could manage in the current situation. “I’ll be back.”

He took Oakley back to the grungy loo and changed him, using his wand to keep him levitated off the dirty sink counter. He had a bottle of goat’s milk in his bag, prepared by Aunt Spider. He heated it with his wand, then went back to the cafe. He sat down at the table with Remus and started feeding the baby, while Remus watched.

“Sev….I...”

“Finish your tea.”

But Remus was laughing at him now, and Sev started to relax. He put the bottle down, set Oakley up on his shoulder to burp him. He reached over and took a sip of Remus’ tea.

“What’s so funny?”

“It just reminds me of when we were first getting together. Do you remember? You would never let me talk then, either.” Sev smirked at the memory of that. Oakley was a comforting weight on his shoulder.

“We’ve come a good way, since then, haven’t we?” he said. Remus broke off a piece of croissant, dipped it in the tea and fed it to him.

“Better?” Sev asked.

Remus sighed and nodded. “Much.”

Sev finished feeding the baby and handed him to Remus. Oakley looked about with those deep blue eyes, taking everything in.

“Stay there,” Sev commanded, and went to pay for their groceries.

********  
As it turned out, Spinners End was still standing. The day after their shopping expedition, Remus and Sev stood in the wreckage of the back garden and surveyed the damage. All the garden beds Remus had so neatly laid out were destroyed but the hedge along the east wall was a fragrant tangle of wild plum blossoms and overgrown roses. A few courageous late daffodils poked their heads from the rubble of roof slates and burnt siding that littered the backyard. The roof was caved in, and all the windows were broken. Inside was a smoky charred mess, with puddles on the floor where the rain had come in.

As they stood there they heard a faint mew and Crookshanks emerged from under a broken beam. His bottle brush tail was standing straight up and he rubbed against their legs and purred vigorously, as if he were glad to see them back.

The greenhouse had multiple broken windows but the plants had survived and thrived in the spring sunshine and rain. The venomous tentacula was growing through shattered panes of glass in the roof, reaching its thick, deep green leaves to the sky, rustling ominously. The snargaluff plants were covered with small, tight green pods and the hellebore was spilling out of its trays and down toward the floor in exuberant blue green tendrils. In the basement, the amanita that Remus had started on shredded cardboard glowed luminous, red and white, ready to be harvested.

And so, they rebuilt. All summer they slept in the bunkhouse that Draco and Dudley had built, protected from mosquitoes by insect repelling charms. Oakley grew fat and round on Remus’ milk and Sev and Remus both soon became experts at nappy changing, burping, baby rocking and other mysteries of parenthood. Amanda and Gavin stayed on with them. They could have gone back to their dad, but, it was decided, after several serious discussions among the adults, that it would be best if they remained on at Spinner’s End. Tim, it turned out, was a bit of a drinker and not really able to be a full time parent. Gav and Amanda would spend Sundays with him, but live with Sev and Remus the rest of the week and get acclimated to the wizarding world they were destined to enter.

All summer long they cleaned and scraped, plastered and painted, often helped out by Draco or Harry or Dudley who all tended to come round on a regular basis, help out for a few hours and stay around for dinner. By fall they were ready to move back in. They finished the attic into a bedroom for Gavin and Amanda and a second guest bedroom which was quickly adopted pretty much full time by Draco.

Malfoy Manor was shuttered. Lucius and Narcissa had fled the country. Draco and Harry both went back to Hogwarts to retake their seventh year, along with Ron, Hermione, Dean, Luna and a variety of other students whose education had been disrupted by Voldemort’s take over and the war. Draco went to classes and kept his head down, but he had no desire to socialize with his fellow Slytherins. He spent most weekends at Spinner’s End, helping out with the endless renovation projects and teaching Gavin and Amanda how to play quidditch in the back garden.

Often as not Dudley was around. He, too, was repeating his final year of school, but he came home often to check on his mother, whose health was delicate. And to see Draco, of course. He had been offered a place at Hogwarts, in light of his recent display of magical ability, but he had declined. He said it would kill his dad if he didn't finish at Smeltings.

Minerva was appointed headmistress of Hogwarts. She wanted Sev to come back to his old job as potion master, but Sev took a job as a potioneer at St. Mungo’s instead, and found it suited him better than teaching ever had. He liked the quiet predictable pace of the work, the orderliness of his lab, the challenge of finding the right potion to supplement the healer’s work or to treat a difficult case. He didn’t miss teaching much at all, it turned out, nor did he miss the chaos and noise of Hogwarts.

Remus took out an ad in the Daily Prophet for _Mr. Moony’s Most Magickal Plants and Fungi._ Through his mail order business he made enough money to supplement their household income and to open a small savings account of which he was immensely proud. He had never been able to save any money before and watching his small nest egg grow every month filled him with a deep sense of peace and security. Money was definitely tight, especially with the number of mouths to feed, but Remus was nothing if not thrifty. All his life he had squeezed a knut til it squealed as the saying went, and he made filling soups and stews and trays of brownies and cookies and finally mastered bread. He must have learned a thing or two from Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider as well because the back of the greenhouse was soon filled with cauliflowers big as your head and cauliflower pie became a family staple.

They asked Harry to be godfather to Oakley. He seemed taken aback at first but then agreed happily. He seemed to feel that the best way to fulfill his responsibility was to give Oakley toys with a quidditch theme and the nursery soon filled up with plush quaffles and bludgers, rattles in the shape of broomsticks and a wind up snitch that played the Gryffindor fight song.

At Christmas Remus took the children to the village and they bought a full sized Christmas tree in the square outside the cathedral. They dragged it home on a sled and decorated it with the old decorations that had been salvaged from the attic as well as paper chains and popcorn balls and stars cut from silver and gold paper. When they lit the lights it was beautiful. Christmas Eve, Remus dug into his savings and bought a real turkey and made fruitcakes. Sev put his potion maker’s expertise to work and mixed up a truly glorious Christmas punch, redolent with lemon and spices and spiked generously with fire whiskey. He left the warm kitchen, which smelled heavenly from the roasting turkey, and went out into the yard. It had snowed the day before, and the the snow was tracked and trampled with the marks of many boots. A lopsided snowman grinned at Sev as he made his way across the yard, and waved a stick arm at him lazily.

He entered the greenhouse, bearing a glass of punch. Remus had a dozen owls lined up on a rail and was busy packing up last minute orders of Mr. Moony’s Magickal Mistletoe, an item that had proved to be very popular.

“Mmm,” said Remus, accepting the steaming punch gratefully. “I think the best thing about this Christmas is that I can drink again.”

“The best thing?” asked Sev, picking up a bunch of the mistletoe lying on Remus’ worktable and turning it over.

“Well, one of the best things,” said Remus. Sev took the mistletoe and playfully held it over Remus’ head. Remus’ eyes widened, and he took in a sharp breath as Sev bent to kiss him, but he firmly pushed Sev‘s hand away and dodged the kiss.

“Careful with that,” he warned. “Its powerful stuff. Magically enhanced. We’ve a house full of people.”

Sev pouted and Remus laughed and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I saved us out a bunch for later when everyone's in bed.”

Sev helped Remus finish packing the mistletoe and sending off the owls and they went back into the warm house together.

Back inside, Remus tuned the radio to the Muggle Christmas music that he loved, basted the turkey and put the potatoes on to boil. In the parlor, Gavin and Amanda were on the floor with their father, teaching him to play exploding snap. Dudley was in the chair by the fire, playing with Oakley, who cooed when he saw Remus and put his fingers together, producing a shower of sparks.

The flames in the fireplace turned green for a moment and Draco emerged onto the hearth. He saw Dudley sitting by the fire with Oakley and his face broke into a smile.

“Merry Christmas, Draco,” said Remus, sweeping in to retrieve Oakley. “There’s punch in the kitchen. Come on, little mite. Let’s get you cleaned up for company.”

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny arrived through the back door, bearing a huge tray of gingerbread men from Mrs. Weasley. The gingerbread men waved and winked at the children who were delighted with them. “They’re too pretty to eat,” wailed Amanda, but Gavin grinned and picked up a cookie and bit off the head.

“They're good,” he said with a full mouth.

“Mmm,” said Ron, imitating Gavin and picking up a cookie and taking a huge bite. “Mum’s specialty. Me and Ginny did those,” he added, pointing to a corner of the tray where the gingerbread men had eye patches and tattoos and made rude gestures at the assembled company.

The front door rang and Sev went to open it. On the stoop stood Petunia and Vernon Dursley, holding a bottle of wine and looking extremely uncomfortable. Sev had gone to Privet Drive the week before to invite them. He had felt awkward, doing it, but he couldn’t bear to leave them out. Lily would have wanted it this way, he told himself, and he knew that it was true.

“Merry Christmas,” Sev said. He kissed Petunia on the cheek, shook Vernon’s hand and ushered them in.

“Where’s Dudders?” said Vernon at once, looking about warily.

“Erm, changing I think. He’ll be down soon.“ Dudley and Draco had disappeared upstairs in the general chaos of things. “This is Tim, Gavin and Amanda’s dad. Let me get you some punch.” Sev fetched them both generous glasses of punch, hoping alcohol would smooth out the awkwardness of the situation. When he got back to the parlor Vernon and Tim were having an animated discussion about drills and Petunia was over at the mantel studying the photos that Remus had put up.

Remus had decorated the mantel with a generous collection of pictures. There were photos of Oakley in his various stages of cuteness, smiling, blowing bubbles, smearing potatoes in his hair. There was one of Amanda and Gavin at the beach, another one of them on the front stoop in their halloween costumes, beside an enormous, grinning pumpkin. There was a photo of Harry, Ron and Hermione in Hogwarts robes, and another of Harry, Ginny, Draco and Dudley, splattered with paint, their arms around each other, grinning at the camera. There was a photo of James, Sirius and Remus in their maraudering days, all three waving and looking carefree and full of fun. There was a photo of Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider, holding Oakley as a newborn, gazing at him with adoration as he waved his tiny fists. There was one of Sev as a younger man that Remus had dug up somewhere, which, he said, was too handsome not to display. Sev had never, ever, thought of himself as handsome, but looking at that photo through the lens of time he could see what Remus meant. He wasn’t smiling in the photo, nor did he look happy, but there was a smoldering intensity to the eyes of the young man who stared from the frame, barely moving, a determination to the set of the mouth and jaw.

But Petunia was studying the small photo of Lily that Remus had put there, without ever consulting Sev. She must be fifteen or sixteen in the picture, just at the age when Sev had been most in love with her, radiantly beautiful. She smiled out at the scene in the parlour as if it pleased her immensely.

“The living photo,” Petunia whispered, as Sev handed her a glass of punch. “It’s almost like she’s still here.”

“Yes,” said Sev. He himself had grown very attached to that photo, as if Lily truly was smiling out at him with approval as he went about his life. “You get used to it,” he added, for something to say.

“I miss her still,” said Petunia sadly.

“Me too,” said Sev quietly.

“I wish….it could have been different with us.”

Sev shook his head. “I know, Petunia,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Then Remus came through the kitchen door, looking flushed and happy in a flowered apron, with the turkey on a platter.

They had moved the kitchen table into the parlour and engorged it to fit everybody but it was still a tight squeeze. They had underestimated the need for chairs, somehow, and Sev ended up fetching some crates from the basement to sit on. Dudley and Draco tumbled downstairs, looking rosy and happy. Sev carved and Remus served and Harry opened the wine that the Dursleys had brought. Oakley sat in his high chair and banged on his tray and smeared yams all over his face.

When everyone was settled Sev stood and raised a glass. “Merry Christmas,” he said. He remembered briefly, last Christmas Eve, when he had been on the verge of making a toast, and the mark had burned, calling him away. “And welcome all. It is a much, much happier Christmas than we had here a year ago, though we managed to be a little bit happy then too, in the darkest days of the war.

“Voldemort is defeated, and I want to raise a glass, to the loved ones who are no longer here with us. To Lily and James and Sirius. To Regulus and Dumbledore, to Tonks and Dobby and Fred. To all the others whose lives were lost in the great struggle that has now ended. We remember them, in this moment of happiness, and they are here with us. Let us drink, to peace.”

“To peace,” they all said, and they raised their glasses and drank.

And then the chatter picked up again, and more dishes were passed, and everyone was eating and drinking and laughing. Sev stood for a moment, breathing in the unlikely joy of it all. He glanced over at the photo of Lily on the mantel, and she gave him a wink.

********

After dinner there were cookies and fruitcake and more punch amid the bustle and clatter of washing up. Oakley was wiped down and passed from hand to hand, smiling and blowing bubbles and being generally charming, until he grew fussy and Remus collected him and took him upstairs to put him to bed. Sev found himself in a quite enjoyable conversation with Vernon and Tim about football, but after a while he excused himself and went upstairs to check on Remus and Oakley.

They were in Sev’s old bedroom, which was now the nursery. Remus was sitting in the rocking chair, nursing Oakley and singing to him in his husky sweet voice. The walls were painted pale yellow and there was a red shade on the small lamp on the nightstand, giving the room a rosy glow. Draco and Harry had insisted on decorating the room in a quidditch theme, and decals of broomsticks, snitches and quaffles marched around the walls at eye level. Sev went over to the window and looked out at the night, where a cold moon was riding high in the clear sky.

“Moon’s coming,” Remus remarked.

“Mmm,” said Sev. “We’ll be ready for it.” He felt a tingle at the tips of his fingers, the panther’s claws, ready to emerge.

“Christmas breakfast at Aunt Pepper’s and Aunt Spider’s tomorrow.”

“Yes,” said Sev. “I'm looking forward to that.”

He sat down on the floor, laying his head against Remus’ knee with a sigh of contentment. Remus went back to singing, and the sounds of Oakley suckling gradually wound down, and he was asleep. Remus laid him down in his crib, beneath the mobile of broomsticks and quidditch balls that Harry had supplied. Sev touched it with his wand, to set it gently rotating.

They stood there for a moment and watched Oakley’s chest gently rising and falling. As they turned to leave the room, Sev put his hand to the back of Remus’ neck and pulled him in for a longish kiss. And for a few moments they were just lost in that. Sev let himself relax into the happiness of it all, Oakley sleeping safely in his crib, Remus in his arms, the soft sounds of gentle conversation drifting upstairs from the parlour, the family that he and Remus had built somehow out of their shattered and lonely lives.

And, at last, they slipped out of the room together, to join the others in the warmly lit parlor.


	50. Epilogue: Three Years Later

It was the Easter Hols, so Amanda was home from Hogwarts on the afternoon of Gavin’s game. Gavin played chaser for the Nettington Nargles in the Niffler Scouts Junior Quidditch League, and his team had made it into the semifinals. The day was springlike but still chilly, and Sev insisted that Oakley wear his winter jacket and a hat. Normally Oakley would have put up more of a fuss about this, but he was so excited about the game that he stood still and tolerated his father as he zipped and buttoned him into his winter clothing, a look of forbearance for the follies of adults on his three year old face.

Remus, who’d had a stomach bug he couldn’t shake came out of the downstairs loo looking pale but determined. He knew it was important to Gavin that he be at this game, and he brushed off Sev’s efforts to get him to do the sensible thing and stay home. Sev was really quite concerned about him. He had that drawn look about the eyes that he usually only got just before the moon, and Sev was fairly sure he’d lost weight.

Still, Remus insisted on going, so Sev made him wear two sweaters and his winter cloak. And a hat. He fussed over him almost as much as he had over Oakley and they nearly missed the start of the game.

They all piled into the old Ford Anglia. Arthur Weasley had lured it from the wild and lovingly restored it, then lent it to Remus and Sev. He’d said they needed it more they he did, with all their kids. All of his were old enough to apparate by now, he’d added, a bit wistfully. Sev was deeply suspicious of the car, but Remus actually enjoyed driving it, and it _was_ a convenience.

They arrived at the quidditch pitch just before the players were announced, and Gavin raced off to join his team. Dudley and Draco, who had gotten a place of their own by now, joined them at the last minute. Draco rarely missed Gavin’s games. They were looking relaxed and rosy, as if they’d just tumbled out of bed, thought Sev ruefully.

The sun came out and the wind died down and it really seemed like spring at last. Sev ended up holding onto a big pile of the extra sweaters and hats he’d made everybody put on. Gavin was really a good chaser - intense and focussed - he scored three goals in a row and Sev knew he’d be elated afterwards - elated and hard to settle down. Oakley watched the game with huge eyes, jumping up and down at every goal, his whole three year old frame wriggling with excitement, his chunky body pressed to the chain link fence that divided the spectators from the playing field, clinging tightly to Amanda’s hand.

The Nargles won, catapulted into the finals largely due to Gavin’s three goals, and his face shone with happiness. Draco and Dudley hung around long enough to congratulate Gavin and they disapparated - off to a Saturday afternoon of the gym and the pub and more sex, probably, thought Sev as he watched them go.

Sev and Remus took the children into the village for ice cream and then the day was so nice they decided to take a short hike through the woods to a small hill where there was a vista of the surrounding countryside. The children tumbled up the trail ahead of them “Don’t get too far ahead,” Remus called. Oakley’s small legs were pumping hard to keep up with the other two but they were patient with him and stopped and waited for him frequently along the trail. Sev and Remus followed behind at a leisurely pace, enjoying the glorious sunshine and the beautiful day and the general sense of peace and contentment that they both felt.

Except then suddenly Remus veered off the trail and into the bushes and he was puking again. He stood up, pale, wiping his mouth, asking Sev if he’d thought to bring any water which, of course, Sev hadn’t, but he he cast _Aguamenti_ and Remus gratefully rinsed his mouth with the stream of water from Sev’s wand.

Remus sat on a rock in the spring sunshine to catch his breath and Sev looked him over critically. It was odd that he was still sick. They’d all had it but that had been weeks ago. Why wasn’t he better?

“You should be getting over this already,” Sev said with concern. Remus had definitely lost weight, and there was a familiar full look to his lips …. as if…… but no, that couldn’t be….

“Sev,” said Remus, looking him in the eye and Sev’s growing suspicions were suddenly confirmed. He felt as if a huge chasm had just opened up inside him and his stomach had dropped neatly into it.

“No,” said Sev. “No…. how could it?”

“I think I am,” said Remus.

“No,” said Sev again. “How is that even possible?”

“I feel exactly the same as last time,” said Remus.

“It’s not possible,” said Sev again. “It’s…...impossible.” Maybe saying it enough times would somehow make it true. “I thought you were…….all boy again.”

“Well, so did I. But what if….the…..birth canal never really closed,” said Remus slowly. “What if…… remember that night a couple of months ago? We’d been drinking? It was Draco’s birthday, remember? And afterwards, we got kind of sloppy and sort of …. exploded all over each other? Maybe things got kind of mixed up, then….. and….” Remus trailed off.

Sev did remember. He remembered vividly. It had been sexy as hell. He had been so grateful, at the time, for what they shared. He sat down in the middle of the trail and put his head in his hands. “Fuck!” he said. “Merlin’s hairy tits! You don’t really think….?”

Remus looked at him and shrugged.

“Remus….I can’t…...we can’t….go through that again.”

“It’ll be your baby,” Remus said quietly. “Yours and mine.”

“That doesn’t matter,” said Sev at once. “That’s never mattered to me. I don’t want….I can’t risk….losing you again.”

“It was all right last time,” said Remus. “We got through it.”

“Barely.”

“It’ll be easier this time. We know what to expect. And we’re not at war.” Remus reached out and stroked Sev’s cheek. “Aren’t you a little bit happy about this?”

Sev grasped Remus’ hand. Through the waves of panic that seemed to be engulfing him he started to feel a small tingle of excitement, of hope. A baby! Another child to love!

“Maybe,” he said cautiously and he gave Remus a tiny smile.

“MoonyPapaMoonyPapaMoonyPapa,” came Oakley’s familiar chant in his lilting voice as he ran back down the trail and hurled his compact body into Sev’s lap. Sev held him tight, put his nose to his soft brown hair, and breathed in his little boy smell, sharp and clean. Every day of his life felt like a miracle, like a gift he wasn’t supposed to get, and loving Oakley was at the center of it.

“There’s tadpoles in the pond! Real tadpoles! And they gots legs!” Oakley said, with excitement. He stood up and tugged at Sev’s hand. “Come an’ see!”

Sev rose, then gave Remus a hand up from where he still sat on the rock. “Let’s go see the tadpoles,” he said, with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He pulled Remus close, just for a second and whispered in his ear. “We’ll stop at Tescos and pick up a test on the way home.”

Remus nodded in agreement and they went off down the trail, with Oakley pulling impatiently at Sev’s hand, to look at the tadpoles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, gentle readers, for traveling to the end of this journey with me! It has been a long road and this story went places I had never imagined at the beginning. Thanks for all your support and feedback! Your comments and suggestions helped shape the story. Thanks for reading! PB


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